


Land of Song

by B_Radley



Series: Rise and Fight Again [16]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Becoming Fulcrum, Did I mention adult bits?, Families of Choice, Friendship/Love, Growing the Rebellion, Living in the Light, Multi, Polyamory, Post Order 66 trauma for Jedi and Vode, Rebellion, Snark, Survival, Zeltron worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2018-12-05 12:56:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 81,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11578503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley
Summary: Ahsoka Tano, now known as Fulcrum in the growing resistance to the New Order, has defeated a threat to Senator Bail Organa and her sanctuary world of Alderaan. She now rests and recovers with a fellow survivor of Order 66, Bryne Covenant, once known as Taliesin Croft, in the wilds of her homeworld, Shili.Covenant must decide if he will accept a duty to his own world, an acceptance that will take him from active participation in the embryonic movement. Away from partnership with Fulcrum.Both of them, raised in the twin traditions of the Jedi and the hunt-culture of her and his late Master's world, must decide whether or not they can continue working together in their dangerous new reality.An Imperial threat to a peaceful world, a world full of light and life, as well as the birthworld of a fellow fighter, will send them to the ends of the galaxy to free that world from oppression.To restore that light.





	1. The Chalice

**Author's Note:**

> This story fleshes out a couple of lines in previous stories. Specifically about a wager between Ahsoka and Covenant.
> 
> The whole thing also started when I was researching Zeltros in the Legends section of Wookieepedia. A line or two about invaders never being able to conquer it, because of the innate joy of the people.
> 
> Wondered what that might look like.
> 
> In the timeline, begins about one month after _One Sword at Least_ and a few months before the 'present day' chapters of _And They Shall Reap the Whirlwind_ , _It Hath No Stalk_ , and _The Bud Shall Yield No Meal_.
> 
> I hope that you enjoy! Thanks for reading.

**__Prologue - Approximately 4 and half years after the death of the Republic**  
**Zeltros - Inner Rim**

The priestess watches the scene unfolding before her in the small square of her beautiful world. About a dozen of the white-shelled interlopers mill about before a wall of an offset of the square. There are no onlookers from her world. They have escaped from custody, thanks in part to one of the daughters of her world, who, along with her companion, are the object of scrutiny among these interlopers.

She smiles. Her people gather elsewhere.

Interlopers who have brought death and terror to her world of light and life. Who have brought darkness to this idyllic world. A world during a time of the celebration of that life and love that permeates the beauty. A celebration that occurs once every half-decade. The Festival of the Chalice of Omri. A planet-wide celebration that brings Zeltrons home from their far-flung adventures to celebrate that life and light, to connect in its essence. To celebrate the renewal and the fertility of their people. Not just the hedonistic pleasure, but the most powerful of the emotions.

_Love._

The priestess known as the Caretaker smiles for a half-second. Her expression hardens as she thinks of the importance of this particular Festival in the cycle. The first since the New Order had risen in the galaxy. The first since a particular darkness had begun to permeate the very fabric of the dimension.

The hand of that darkness had, until now, been light on this world, as the inhabitants were dismissed as pleasure-seeking and shallow. The desirability of the world and its inhabitants among the wealthy power-seekers and wielders of the Empire had kept the hand light.

Until now. Until a secret from the past had been revealed to one of the most ambitious of those power-seekers.

A secret that had sent his minions to this world to take the power.

The Caretaker smiles at what the power-seeker doesn't know. The Caretaker turns as two of her Acolyte-Heralds bring a tall object into the room and place it on the table. The two young bearers, little more than adolescents back away with the covering of the object. The Caretaker closes her eyes as another of the young ones places a small wreath over her shaven skull and steps away from her.

The Caretaker smiles at the awe from the younger woman. The legend of the Caretaker is most effective at defecting questions. A legend born in fact and myth.

It was difficult to tell which was which, sometimes. Even to the bearers of the title. A power that was separated from the ancient, proscribed _Bahlan-Ki'a_ of antiquity; the mind-rippers that had terrorized the world and its people, before an ancient Caretaker and his responsibility had defeated them. Separated only by a moral and ethical center, firmly based in that emotion that ruled the beautiful people and their world.

The senior Acolyte-Herald touches her arm. She nods as she turns to the object. She opens the gift, the birthright of her people. She turns to the balcony and looks at the two young women, one of this world, one not, who stand with their hands bound behind their backs, against the wall.

~=~=~=~=

The stormtrooper Major stares at his Commander, as well as the ISB stooge standing behind him. His face is expressionless behind the cheap stormtrooper armor as he comprehends what the Commander has ordered him to do.

"You heard me, Major. I want blaster bolts in the chests of these two rebels, then I want you personally to place bolts in their heads. We can't afford to be lenient. Especially with the whole world on the cusp of rebellion," the Commander says.

_Wouldn't have been on the cusp of rebellion if you hadn't come in like a goddamned walker plowing through everything. You and that murderous psychopath of a Separatist behind you._

The Commander smirks at the Major. "It is a pity that we don't have time to enjoy the both of them properly, but we need to move on in order to pacify the rest of the city."

The Major's teeth clinch as he feels the buzzing in his head. As he tries to fight it and tamp it down.

As he fights to bring his blaster up to place a round of superheated plasma in the smirk of the unarmored human. A stirling example of the 'New Imperial.'

He shakes his head. He turns and looks at the other dozen stormtroopers, the only other spectators to this little tableau. Seven of them are the standard issue volunteer and/or conscripts.

The other five, fellow officers, he can identify by their body language, even though they are clad in identical armor. He can identify them because they have been his brothers for nearly twenty years.

He knows them as well as he does his own face and own stance.

Bly turns to the two women. He walks up to them. Gooder hands him two pieces of black cloth. "Do either of you want a blindfold?" he asks. A terse shake of the head from the taller and younger of the two. The Zeltron simply smiles.

He can feel the anger and sadness rising through the Zeltron's empathic gift. He shakes his head. He would give into the despair later. Like he did nearly five years ago on a lush world of spice plants and life. He is fairly certain that he will not survive the despair this time.

His mind's eye flies immediately to beautiful hazel eyes in blue skin, just before he fires his final bolt into her brain. Eyes that through the haze of whatever compelled him had run the gamut from betrayal to understanding.

To love. Eyes that had fixed on him in abandon as they had made love not four hours before. Before the madness of the Order.

He shakes his head again. A glimpse of movement flashes in his periphery. Blue skin and lekku torture his memory. The eyes of the wraith are sad as they stare at him.

He turns and lifts his bucket, running his gloved hand under his visor. He rubs his eyes. He takes a deep breath. "You can have a moment to make your peace and say goodbye to each other,” he says. _Something that his General never had the chance to do. It is all that he can do._

Both women turn to each other and bring their foreheads together. They both whisper something for several moments that he cannot hear, then the Zeltron gently kisses the other. They close their eyes. The Major can sense impatient sighs and eyerolls behind him.

"Hurry up, clone. We'll be doing this plenty of more times today. I want the populace walking past their corpses and seeing the price of rebellion," the ISB officer says. She clinches her teeth. “I want them broken.”

The Major ignores her. The two women turn and face him. He notices that their bound hands are clasped as best as possible. "I am sorry, Commander," he says quietly. "We will make it as quick and as painless as possible."

The blue eyes grow hard from their softness at her Zeltron companion. "Get on with it. I am sure you gave Aayla a quick death as well, when you betrayed her."

Ahsoka Tano stares defiantly at her former brother. She tightens her grip on Dani's hand.

The man that she knows as Bly closes his eyes as her words cut him to the bone.

 **One week before.**  
**Imperial Center**

Moff Dairlen Poldar's eyes drift to his datapad as he listens to the functionary drone on about fleet re-deployments in the Inner Rim. He smiles as he sees the message that he has been waiting for. The smile turns to a grimace as he listens to Secor's minion finish. _I can't believe that they selected Secor for the COMPNOR. He and his staff have no imagination. They are all about the Navy. Nothing about the economic realities of Empire._

Poldar stands from his seat, signaling the meeting is over. Secor's aide stops, his eyes flashing with annoyance before settling into the standard mask of respect for a superior officer.

Even a superior officer that he has contempt for. Poldar makes a note to have one of his new Deathtroopers pay a visit to the Ensign.

Just for the flash of annoyance.

Poldar stalks out of the chamber. He sends a text to his Deathtrooper escort and begins the movement to his personal ship. As he does, he allows his mind to wander over the last five years of the New Order. The Alderaani laughs at his fortune. The last remaining member of another Elder Family of Alderaan - the rivals to the upstart Organa-Antilles ilk, he had tied himself to Sheev Palpatine's star early on, as an aide to the Naboo politician. His success as an entrepreneur, in spite of the ruling family's stifling regulation, had ensured him a place at the table.

But a disagreement with the Emperor's new economic pet, Count Vidian, had led to his exile as Moff of a sleepy and small sector in the Inner Rim. He sighs and shakes his head, stifling the move as he makes it as a sign of weakness.

An independent observer of his life might sense a pattern. He was now engaged in a disagreement with Jano Secor, the Moff of a more lucrative Mid Rim sector.

He clinches his teeth as he thinks of his future. A backwater politician from a small world now stands at the pinnacle of the galaxy.

_Imagine if a more qualified leader and ruler now stood at that pinnacle. A man, who if not for others' interference in his life and career, could rule the galaxy._

He notices that his reverie has taken him to his Stardestroyer, docked at the old Coruscant Republic yards. Standing next to the side party at the entryport is a young woman. At first glance, she could be dismissed as just another functionary, albeit one that was easy on the eyes.

A look at her dark eyes would dispel the myth that she had gotten anywhere on her looks or on her back. Dark eyes that even now appraise him with sharp intelligence and analysis, as well as no small amount of ruthlessness.

Her family, an upstart crime syndicate, had only recently discovered how much ruthlessness she possessed.

Someone more self-aware than the Moff would realize that the dark gaze finds him wanting. As she does most of her superiors.

"Report, Colonel Antol," he barks perfunctorily.

Her face is kept carefully blank. "The situation on Zeltros is minor. There has been some sabotage of equipment. Very minor compared to places like Stornan. I recommend watching and waiting. If we need to move in, I think that Zeltros would be a prime candidate for Operation Windfall. Their economics are tied to pleasure. We have many avenues to subvert it, as many of the Imperial elites enjoy partaking of those pleasures."

He shakes his head. "No, Colonel. You are wrong. I think you have done admirable work in pacifying worlds for the Emperor without wasting our precious resources. But, in this case, I think you are wrong. We will send a force to stifle any dissent."

It is the young woman's turn to shake her head. "Sir, I believe that you are incorrect. Those same Imperial elites, both in the Senate, as well as the Court, enjoy Zeltros. Even ordinary citizens of the Empire go there again and again. The people are peaceful and fun-loving. They are no threat."

"I know that you are well-respected in the ISB, Deputy Director, but you need to stop debating me." He raises his hand at her angry expression. "However, in deference to your concerns, we will send only a small task force. Commander Tonca of the 327th Legion and my flagship, the Illuminator, will make for Zeltros as soon as they have finished their refit." Poldar smiles. "Tonca is an idiot, but he is leavened by his senior officer, Major Bly, who is a sober officer, for a clone."

Leeza remains silent, her dark eyes gazing at him. "Can you send someone to oversee the operation from your agency, Colonel?" the Moff asks. She nods after a moment.

Poldar turns away from the ISB minion. His mind already on something else. 

Behind him, Leeza Antol watches the arrogant official leave. She smiles to herself. _Oh, yes, Moff. I have someone in mind for this clusterfuck,_ she thinks. _Someone who can be given a golden egg and then manage to slaughter the fowl that lays it._

She turns away herself, thinking of how she can be rid of a failed experiment.

On board the ISD, Poldar enters a small compartment on the ship. He nods at the figure lounging on the couch.

A young woman in her late teens smirks up at him. She raises her right arm, the beginnings of a linear-patterned tattoo visible in the short sleeves of her worn field clothes.

"You heard?" he asks tersely.

"Yep. As much as I get wet with anticipation listening to Imperials going wild, you are delaying me from looking for your doo-dad." The smirk grows. "Lord King, uh Governor," she adds belatedly.

"Young lady, you would do well to show more respect to an Imperial Moff."

"I will respect you more when you pay me," she says.

He halts the Deathtrooper moving towards her. He smiles tightly, his face suddenly skull-like. "If you fail me, I will enjoy watching you be strangled by my personal guards."

She quiets. "Find that object, my dear. I am risking a great deal, moving these troops to Zeltros. You had better find the last puzzle piece of my plan."

"Moffie, I may only be a graduate student, but I can find anything. Leave it to me. Of course," she adds, a mischievous gleam in her eyes, "you could add a bonus of a trip to Zeltros and a couple of pretties of my own thrown in."

"It may not be the place or the people it used to be, my dear, after I am through with them."

The young student and scientist known as Aphra, but known by another name by the man who had just threatened her, watches him leave the room, her dark eyes thoughtful for a moment.

Only for a moment. Until she considers the profit from this job.

~=~=~=~=~=

The huntress clasps her arms and legs tighter around the back of the hunter. Light builds in their heads, as noises build in the brightness of a morning along the Lar River. A look from one of them; they can never tell who, and a hunt for small game for their dinner turns into a desperate flinging of clothes onto the plains for yet another light-and-noise session in the wilderness of her world.

Neither will ever admit to the other who initiates these sessions. Stolen moments spent seizing the warmth and the light for the last month on this world beloved to both of them. Light in lives that are spent fighting against, and in some case, living, in the darkness that permeates the galaxy.

Both can barely breathe as the final explosions resonate through their joined bodies. They slow their rocking rhythm to a stop. Their hands play about each other's faces as they remain in their seated rest.

Ahsoka Tano lets another gasp escape as Bryne Covenant plays his lips over her right lek. His gasps are as loud as hers as they fight for breath.

"Hey, Bait," she manages to get out.

"Yeah, Runt?" he allows.

"I know this is our last day and all, but do you think that we could actually, maybe, just, I don't know, _sleep_ tonight?"

There is a sharp exhalation of something like relief. "Thank the Force," Covenant says.

Ahsoka's eyes snap open. "What the hell do you mean, Covenant?" she says darkly.

His own green gaze locks on hers. "Just what I said. I haven't gotten much rest this trip. Someone always seems to want to climb on top of me or pull me down on top of them."

She sees his grin and matches it with a capital Smirk. "Oh yeah? I couldn't do anything here without somebody bending me over the nearest piece of topography and saying 'hi!'

"If there was bending, it was only because my huntress is insatiable in all her appetites."

"Oh, Covenant. You are so full of shit. I am surprised that you can think with all of the blood that pools in your groin, at all hours of the day and the night."

"Yeah, well. The rock digging into my ass right now, compounded by the weight of my huntress is kind of focusing me."

The local wildlife is treated to different sights and sounds than they are used to as the snark and innuendo continues. If they thought about such things, they would agree that at least they are not having to put various appendages over their visual and auditory sensors.

The snark loses steam with a few giggles and eyerolls. "...again, Runt, I doubt that you could go twenty minutes, if Lassa or Meglann or Nola looked at you sideways, now that the floodgates have opened." Bryne says. He does rest his forehead against hers, gently. She smiles at the tender gesture.

"We don't have to worry about No-no," she says. "Our annual wrestling match just passed about six months ago. Besides, you won't be five minutes back on Corellia before you'll be tapping on Dani's door with your bare face hanging out," she says. She soothes the words with a kiss. "Or if Meglann asks for a 'training session' on Alderaan."

Her grin turns positively feral. "Let's not forget Kolan...."

"Oh, that is low, Tano."

A gleam comes into their eyes at the same instant. "You want to put your money where your nethers are?" he asks.

Her eyes narrow. "What do you propose, Inspector?" she asks.

"A small wager, perhaps?" he replies.

"Go on..."

"As soon as we, ah, come apart, we will abstain from all carnal relations for one standard month. No 'girls or boys in every port,' no seducing in the line of duty - nothing." He smirks as she opens her mouth, then closes it. “Not even with your ‘wife,’ the good Senator, ‘Jana’.” he finishes, using yet another pseudonym.

"Then, I will add a couple of codicils of my own," she says. "We will both also go 'hands free,' for the month as well. Plus, no ‘training’ sessions.”

It is his turn to open and close his mouth.

He watches her as she feels herself growing serious. "About the others, Bryne.” She pauses, looks away. He reaches over and turns her face back to his. She smiles ruefully. “You are my hunt-brother….

He stills her words with his lips. “I know, Ahsoka,” he says simply.

"I just want to make sure that we are agreed. We said at the beginning of our month here that we would not be mates - even though in Togruta culture, matings might be more plural, just formal and require us to be together. But I want to make sure," she repeats. She looks down; busies herself by resting her mouth on his chest. "I will always come back to you, my hunt-brother."

He gently raises her chin and kisses her on her nose. "And I, you, my hunt-sister. I am glad that you have others you trust to share the light with.”

His voice contains a hint of pleading. “You have to stay in the light."

She is silent, but she knows her thoughts betray her for a brief second in his mind. _So do you, Baa’je’ie’ar._

The sensation in his mind of the unfamiliar tense of her name for him, cuts through to her heart.

Their eyes tear as they both think of time already lost. Nearly five years worth. "I lo..." he starts.

She silences him with a kiss. "I know. We don't have to say those words."

Ahsoka's face grows light again. "This should be an easy win for me. I went for months - almost years without it, well at least with anyone else. From what I understand, you were plowing pretty hard in the fields."

For a moment she thinks that she had overstepped as she sees something for a brief second in his eyes. She reaches down and kisses the ring on his left hand. He smiles. Their lips touch.

She looks shyly at him. "So can we negotiate a bit on when the bet begins?" She looks down at their middles. He gasps as her mouth moves back to his chest, the predator’s teeth leading the way. She immediately kisses the small mark near a larger scar that she had made to save his life. When they were younger and the universe was much less darker.

Or so it seemed.

She grins to send the dark thoughts away. "I kind of want to put our money where our mouths are."

He laughs. "I think we can do that, Runt."

She looks quizzically at him. "So what are we playing for? Or not playing, as the case may be?”

He is thoughtful for a moment. His face lights up. He reaches down and puts his mouth against her lek. His whisper vibrates along her lekku and montrals.

Her smile, both joyful and bittersweet, matches his. Without another word, as if by unspoken agreement, she pushes off of him. Both twist around until their mouths are over each other’s core.

If anyone was listening, they might hear a collective sigh from the area's wildlife as they try to close their eyes and ears.

They might also see a competitive gleam in each of the lovers' eyes as their mouths play over each other’s centers.

Especially in the human's.


	2. The Cousin's Dilemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corellians, Alderaani, and Zeltrons attempt to live in the darkness.

Imperial Fleet Trooper DN-2525 stares out over the vehicle yard of the small Imperial base. He rolls his eyes as he tries to concentrate on watching his sector. He turns and glances around to the streets below. Brightly colored flame-lamps are strung over the wide, beautiful avenues. Music, both vocal and instrumental can be heard in the near distance.

The trooper, once known as Tel Davyyd on a tiny bucolic world, surreptitiously looks around and adjusts the suddenly tight collar of his black uniform. He looks around again and reaches lower to adjust the tightening trousers.

Davyyd looks down at the street again. He concentrates on three beautiful Zeltrons of at least two genders walking into the alcove.

The three barely wear any clothing. His eyes widen as he realizes what is about to happen.

 _Something that generally does not happen even in the larger towns on Stewjon,_ he thinks to himself.

A growing buzz grows at the base of his skull, as well as that tight area lower down. He realizes that he is not just seeing their merging, but experiencing it as well.

Davydd tries to glance away. As he does, he realizes that a larger group is located near a series of benches. He tries to remember the advisories that had been given out by his officers and sergeants about this Festival.

_It only happens once every five years. You may see anything going on. You may even see people you recognize from command and higher-ups engaging in it. You see nothing. You say nothing. Remember that you are in the Imperial Navy and Army. You can engage in it if you are off duty, but you better be back when your liberty is up. You better not catch anything, either. If you do, I will charge you with damaging Imperial property._

His mind settles on the last words of the noncom. _Remember. Don't engage in it when you are on duty._

Trooper DN-2525 looks down at the front of his uniform trousers ruefully, as he feels those sensations subside. _Does it count when I am alone? How the hell am I going to explain this to the Sergeant?_

The sensations are replaced with others, as he slumps against the wall. He looks over at the other guards. They all seem to be similarly indisposed. One is smoking a cigarette, in willful disregard of Imperial regulations. None of them notice several figures climbing into the AT-DPs parked below.

~=~=~=~=~=

Alyysina Faygan'ii, medical doctor and block warden for the Council of the _Zoetarchiate,_ stands on the balcony overlooking the Capitoline. She closes her eyes as she breathes in the intoxicating scents of life throughout the city. She sways to the music and to the resonances on full force throughout the city. The young woman takes in the beauty of her city and world - the colorful buildings with their lofty, open ceilings and design. The lush green spaces placed thoughout the city. Green spaces and buildings now filled with her beautiful and colorful people. A people living up to their mantra.

_Living life to the fullest._

She takes a sip of her whiskey. She notices that a couple are trying to catch her eye. She smiles and downs the rest of the liquor. She remembers her family's connection to Corellia and the story of how a Corellian engineer and his protector had introduced her father and her younger aunt to the drink, over thirty years ago.

She turns and starts to walk over to the couple, removing her shawl and dropping it over a bench. _This is the Festival. If any offworlders are offended by my body during this time, then they might need to find another world for the next few weeks._

She puts a bit of sinuous slowness into her walk, the diaphanous skirt of her festival clothing swaying to her own internal rhythm and to the resonance projecting from the pair.

As she starts to walk over, she hears the loud noise of an engine starting up, cutting through the music and laughter. Her strong jaw clenches as her eyes fix on the AT-DP turning its engines over.

 _And another one will start up for twenty minutes in the next hour. Even though the things have barely moved in the last week or so_. She closes her eyes, envisioning yet another trip to the Imperial marine captain to express the importance of the Festival to all Zeltrons on behalf of the district Councilor.

 _Probably as fruitful as the last four trips._ Still, the Imps had remained off of the grid much more than she thought they would.

A different pitch comes into the engine noise. She looks down into the yard and sees the AT-DP sway drunkenly and start moving. Towards the one full walker in the yard. She rushes closer to the balcony as she sees the two pilots of the smaller vehicle climb out and jump clear.

The AT-DP strikes the AT-AT on its leg. Both vehicles struggle and strain. Alyysina gasps as she sees the larger behemoth jerk to and fro.

And topple. In spite of what the sight might mean for her people, she barely suppresses a laugh as the vehicle topples over onto the three other AT-DPs and ten speederbikes parked on the small parade ground.

There is a crash of noise and dust, as well as several small mini-explosions. She sees figures running to help the two pilots up from where they had managed to land.

Sina’s now anger-black eyes are caught by several hooded figures running from the Imperial compound. She curses under her breath and puts down her drink. She gathers her shawl and drapes it over her breasts as she turns to walk away. To a particular address that she had come across in her work.

Oddly, she thinks of her cousin, now living on the world that had produced the whiskey. She wonders how the young woman who is the daughter of her namesake, as well as the daughter of her father’s beloved younger sister, is faring in her fight.

~=~=~=~=~=

Leeza Antol seethes as she switches off the comm panel. Poldar had managed to anger her as he related the latest attack on Imperial assets on Zeltros.

She shakes her head. _It barely qualifies as an attack. A few realigned chips on an AT. Several vehicles destroyed._

But Poldar's instructions are clear. The _Illuminator_ and the 327th's infantry battalion would leave Coruscant within the hour.

_To suppress any rebel activity and to remind the inhabitants of their responsibility to order.  
_

She stops before a door and knocks. A quick 'Enter' is heard.

A tall, bulky figure stands before a tall window, watching the Stardestroyer depart against the sparkling backdrop of the Coruscant skyline. She stands waiting as the older man watches the ship rise slowly.

"There is nothing like watching a ship sailing, my dear Colonel," he says in a deep voice. "Especially when it sails in harm's way for 'duty beyond the stars,' as the old orders used to read." She sees him gather himself and turn.

A kindly face looks at her, but one with steel and storm behind its gray eyes. "But enough of an old man's reverie." Moff Jano Secor walks over and shakes her hand, looking her squarely in the eye. "I read your concerns about Poldar's movements to Zeltros. I am just as troubled as you are. Dairlen Poldar has never done anything that doesn't benefit Dairlen Poldar. My sources say he has feelers out for something."

"Mine do as well, Moff," the young woman says. "Since I have raised objections, he has withdrawn his request and permission for an ISB asset to accompany the forces."

"Yes. I have raised concerns with fellow members of COMPNOR and the Ubiqtorate," he says, mentioning the clearing house for Imperial Intelligence and Security. He grins. "Including your colleague, Colonel Yularen."

Antol does not react with more than a careful smile at the mention of her rival. A rival who doesn't see himself as one, having aided her navigation of the birth of the Empire in place of the Republic.

"We have to tread carefully since he is a fellow Moff. I am giving you orders to have one of your agents meet them on Zeltros. To direct operations and try to figure out a way to both expose his plot and mitigate any effects."

She nods. "With your permission, I have an independent contractor who might serve, rather than a commissioned ISB agent. She is smart enough to take action, but she does have some unpredictability. Something that might help us expose and embarass Moff Poldar without connecting it to us."

"Good thinking, Colonel. But can this unpredictability backfire on us?" the former Admiral asks.

"I think it is worth the risk. I can control her. I have, a certain, ahh, leverage with her."

 _The hint of an explosive in her brain helps with that_. "Plus she is unable to feel emotions. Might come in handy on a world full of active empaths."

_Any emotions except for raw anger and hatred._

"Very well. If you don't mind, I have taken the liberty to try and figure out his moves elsewhere. We have tracked him to a family home in Aldera. I have engaged the ISB Station Chief there to look into him discreetly."

"Kolan?" she asks. "Yes. I was his first Captain in the Judicials and later served in the Navy with him. He is a good, smart officer."

 _Not to mention rumored to be a former lover of yours, Moff my dear,_ Leeza thinks. She nods. "Then I will set my asset in motion, Moff. She dips her head. "Leeza, I have heard good things about you. I think that there is going to be some shuffling in a bit in Intelligence and Security. I think that you have a bright future, especially with your initial success with Operation Windfall."

This sinks in as she spins on her heel and leaves the room.

~=~=~=~=~=

The hooded figures enter the small house on the outskirts of the city. The lights come up gently as the lead figure pulls his hood, revealing a young man's face.

A face similar to that of the caretaker of a young Princess on another world. Tori Laken's eyes darken as he thinks of his surviving triplet.

Of her anger at his insistence that the rebel known as Fulcrum bore all of the responsibility for their other triplet's Zan's death.

 _How the hell can you blame her, Tori?_ she had snarled at him as she left Cham Syndulla's old freighter to join Ahsoka Tano on her battered Y-Wing. To a new life on a new world.

To have a life in which she doesn't have to run. Something they had been doing since the death of their father and the desertion and madness of his partner as a result of that death.

He closes his eyes again as he thinks of that father, Dr. Dain Laken and his obsession with the arcane skills of the forbidden _Bahlan-ki_ sect of antiquity.

He turns to his fellow fighters. One Zeltron and four Twileks - fellow refugees from Cham Syndulla's Free Ryloth movement. "Good job tonight. They will be reeling. We should be able to grab some more heavy weapons and explosives."

"Yeah, unless you've stirred them up enough to crack down on your fellow Zeltrons," says a voice from the shadows.

A beautiful Zeltron woman, dressed in the flowing, diaphanous skirt of festival-garb gazes at him from a chair. Her already anger-black eyes stare at him. The trademark strong jaw, along with the normally amber eyes and mixed blue and brown hair a trademark of the women of her family, is set.

Tori Laken relaxes and holsters his knife. "Dr. Faygan'ii. It is good to know that the _Zoetarchiate_ Council is finally taking an interest in our activities." His eyes flash with anger of his own. "Activities made in defense of liberty."

She stands. "You idiot. I have told you before. Not even whatever cells there are in the galaxy are making open moves in opposition to the Empire yet."

"Cham Syndulla is."

"And look what it has gotten him. A hard hand on his world. A death mark. Not many successes in my book." She walks up to him. "Plus, how is that working out for you, hotshot? I am told that you and your little band are not welcome on Ryloth because of your inability to follow orders."

She maintains the obsidian gaze. "If you proceed with this action, you are going to bring the Empire down on your home. We may not be able to fight them off our way."

"What way is that? Rolling over on our backs? Whoring with them?"

"Are you actually a Zeltron? Are you twisted so much by your losses that you forget who you are?"

He does not answer. Instead, he spins and walks out of the house. She stares down the remaining....whatever they are. After a moment, they break her gaze and slink out of the house. She curses and sits on the chair, her head in her hands. She looks up. Her eyes have settled back to the amber from the black.

She pulls her comm out and activates it. After a moment a similar face pops up above the holo projector.

A slightly younger face, with a set of eyes that always seem to be laughing, a set of eyes unique in their color in their shared heritage. The same facial structure with the influence of a man from another world. A Corellian powerbroker known for his Dragon-like wielding of that power.

"Hey, Sina," the young woman says.

Alyysina smiles. "Hey, Dani. How do you feel about coming home for the Festival?"

~=~=~=~=~=

Daaineran Faygan clicks off her comm. She thinks of a small world. A world full of empaths; a world full of love.

Her birthworld. Her eyes tear as she thinks how long it has been since she was last there.

Since before the war. Since before she had loved and lost a powerful Jedi as her heart-bond. Since before she had found purpose again on her father's world. A purpose that could bring light to her frozen heart again, as well as a little piece of that light to the galaxy.

She smiles as she thinks of a quick conversation with her erstwhile employee and cousin. She thinks of the light in his life again after the discovery that his hunt-sister and fellow ex-Jedi, Ahsoka Tano, was alive after the cataclysm that destroyed their way of life. She laughs out loud, despite the seriousness of the situation that her other cousin had outlined. She laughs at the thought that Bryne and Ahsoka could find the light as they have in the darkness.

Her laughter chases away her own darkness as she lifts her comm. Her eyes are narrowed with her own mischief in Covenant's request.

She picks her comm back up and calls a Dragon and a Jester.

~=~=~=~=~=

Nola Vorrserrie sits quietly and looks out at the rugged mountains of her second world. A world that had given her sanctuary when she thought that her own had rejected her. When she thought that her world had chosen the darkness of Sheev Palpatine with the installation of a puppet Queen. A puppet that had turned out to be more of her own woman and her world's loyal daughter than many knew.

Or would ever know.

Her hand taps on the plastic of her datapad. The Galactic Standard words blink accusingly at her from the screen.

_...I feel that I can no longer carry out the functions of my office to your satisfaction and mine. These times demand the highest of all of us, my Queen. I do not feel that I can give that to you. Therefore, I must humbly submit my resignation from the office of the Hand of the Queen, effective immediately. It has been my honor to serve you and my adopted world. A world which took me in when no one else would._

_For Alderaan, always._

The young Naboo looks up as she feels a powerful presence walk in. She makes to rise, and curses as the intense pain centered in her chest and right shoulder crashes over her. Bail motions her to remain seated, but she ignores him.

A small presence is at her side, supporting her injured side as she lifts herself up by her uninjured arm and the cane resting against the chair.

Phygus Baldrick remains by her side as she bows slightly to the Senator and Viceroy-Consort of Alderaan. She is surprised to see him, but smiles at him as the uncharacteristic tenderness shows through. The same tenderness and love that had shown through when he gave as much of his small amount of Force energy as he could when she floated in hyperbacta, a small part of her right lung gone from an assassin's bullet and a diabolical substance slowly killing her from the slug.

"Baldrick is here working on some of the details for the Tripartite Deal with the Mon Cal and the Mandos," Bail says. "He got a message from the Dragon and Chief Superintendent Faygan. There is a possible situation on Dani's homeworld. Similar to Stornan." Her eyes widen, but then calm with understanding. "I need you to go to Shili and get Fulcrum, to get her to rendezvous with Dani and try to solve the issue as quickly as she can."

"Shouldn't you find...?" she starts.

"No," he says firmly. "I really shouldn't. I know what the Dragon told you when you met with him. You truly are the glue that holds us together. I could no more do without you, than I could without a limb. Neither could the Queen."

"Viceroy," she starts again. She feels Phygus squeeze her hand. Bail touches her cheek, gently. "Don't push yourself so hard. It has only been a month. You shouldn't even be out of a hoverchair now. Give yourself some time."

"Take the _Tantive III_. I have gotten permission for you to land near Ahsoka's camp. You can take her fighter and astromech on board and get her to the rendezvous with Dani."

Bail gently takes her in his arms and squeezes her. "That is from the Queen and Leia. Take some time coming back. Doctor Hegridhara is going with you for some more therapy. Come back when you think you can." He grins. "I will not accept that little missive you are composing on your datapad." She stares at him in shock as he turns and leaves.

Her eyes narrow as she looks down at Phygus, who cannot meet her eye. "You snooping little turd." she says. "I ought to drop you out of an airlock." Her eyes soften. "But I think that I will do something else instead."

At that she gingerly kneels down and takes him in her arms. She kisses him gently and ruffles his hair.

He touches her cheek under her dark eyes. "You really are one of the strongest people I have ever met, No-no," he says. "Nobody thinks you have anything to prove."

He hugs her tighter. "I really was just looking for topless holos on your datapad, Nola. Nothing else."

"You asshole," she says with a snort. "Everybody knows I keep those on my comm."


	3. A Thin Line Between Love and Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Ahsoka prepares to leave Shili, disaster is set in motion for Zeltros.

Ahsoka Tano tightens the straps on her pack. She smiles at the presence in her mind. A presence that had left her physically, but is still a nagging little multicolored light at the back of her Force-sense.

They had woken gently in the morning, their arms about each other. She awakens to the sensation of arousal and joy that she has had for the last month.

Since a night on Naboo over two months ago where she had sent her fears and demons away and had reached for him. Reconnecting from a night five years ago in the cabin of a pirate ship.

Not just the physical, but the emotional and the spiritual. The huntress can feel his own arousal against her rear. She turns her head towards the soft breaths that she feels on her lekku. Her eyes open to his gentle smile.

"Hey there," he says.

"Hey yourself," she responds. Anyone watching their interactions would think that there was a heavy, awkward silence at this moment.

They would be wrong. Every morning when they had woken together, they had drank each other in, merely marveling at the vagaries of the Force that had brought them back together.

For every stolen moment.

She concentrates on the joy, rather than the rising warmth in her center.

She sighs and gets up. For the first time since they had come to Shili, they had both worn some sort of clothing to bed - she in one of his dress shirts, he, a pair of his shorts.

Her mind flashes forward to their farewell. The awkwardness had been present at that time. They had both looked at their feet. Ahsoka realizes that this is not due to the bet.

It is due to the separation.

A separation that could go for months with their strange lives. She raises his chin with her fingers. His powerful green gaze cuts through her.

"We'll see each other in the next few weeks, Bait," she had said, her own gaze locked on his.

He smiles his crooked smile. "I know, Runt. It is just hard. We haven't really ever spent this much time together when we were alone and when we, uh, had these feelings for each other. It was...." He breaks off, trying to find the words.

 _Magical? Life-affirming?_ she thinks. He looks at her.

And crosses his eyes deliberately. Hers roll skyward. She shoves him, the giggles rising with his.

As their laughter subsides, she realizes that his presence is in her head. _Powerful. Glowing._

He sees the look in her eyes. "Yeah, I know. Seems to be working, this morning. Even through the shields."

"You are so powerful at shielding. Master Ti told me that she and Windu were once in a building with you and couldn't sense you. For your Shadow trials."

He smiles tightly. "Yeah. I was very good at hiding. Comes from being slow as shit, even in Force-sprinting."

She punches him in the chest. "You kept up with me on the Hunt. Not many people could keep up with me back then."

"Slow and steady wins the race, Runt."

"Yep. You proved it to me every day and every night for the last month, sport," she says with a Smirk.

His eyes narrow at the memories. "Thanks, babe, for reminding me of what I am facing for the next month."

"Oh, well. All is fair in love and Grade-A nerf-steak."

"Oh, it is on, turd," he says.

She moves her Smirk to an approximation of his crooked grin. "I am sure you are so going down, Covenant. I have heard your uncle refer to you as a 'walking, talking Corellian gonad."

"He is one to talk." They fall silent. "Be careful, Ahsoka," he says. "Or at least, please don't spend any more time in bacta."

"You, too." She looks at him. "Jame." He looks away as she uses his birth-name. A name that only a few know.

She laughs as she recalls what he had done next. He had extended his hand. The warmth of his touch suffused the cooler skin of her own hand as she returned the handshake.

A beep brings her fully back to the present.

 _+What's next, Snips?+_ Arseven asks in binary. She smiles at the use of her nickname. The name that her Master had given nearly ten years before.

"Headed to the Outer Rim, little guy," she says. "Want to see about doing some recruiting, check on some other cells." She smirks. "Maybe look up a certain pirate."

 _+I guess that you and the blue pirate will be taking long oil baths together,+_ the astromech says.

Ahsoka is just barely able to prevent a deep orange flush. _Okay, in light of yesterday's little bet, might cross Lassa off of the list, she thinks. Those 'oil baths' may lead to costing me quite a bit of credits._

"You just don't worry your little dome about who I am taking baths with, smartass." she says, giving said dome a tap.

She slides her pack under the ejection seat of the sable Aethersprite fighter. "How about you worry about starting the preflight, bud."

 _+Okay, Snips.+_ She hears a pause. _+Will you wash my back?+_

"Bite me, droid-boy," she says with a laugh.

She pulls out a datapad from the cockpit and calls up a flight plan. _Okay. Really don't want to start off my visit to Stornan. May not want to ruin a good day by meeting that collection of idiots._

_Although, there doesn't seem to be anyone there that might trip my fancy. Safe for the bet.  
_

She looks up at a noise from the distance. She sees a small dot and dust cloud approaching from the nearest clan-stead.

She pulls her macrobinoculars from their place on her left thigh. She smiles as she sees the tall figure on the speeder bike, her newly-long dark hair flowing behind her.

 _+Somebody calling themselves your pain-in-the-ass, is letting you know she has clearance from the Elders to use the bike out here,+_ Arseven says.

Ahsoka's expression grows pained as she thinks of the young woman who has given so much.

A young woman who constantly worries about her huntress's safety. A young woman who had nearly died, merely because she was around their boss, Senator Bail Organa.

A young woman who dies a tiny bit when Ahsoka goes out to fulfill what she was born to do.

She turns to greet her as the bike slows to a halt.

~=~=~=~=~=

Breha watches the young Zeltron relentlessly attack her prey. The prey's rising giggles split the air as Leia, Princess Royal of the Elder House of Alderaan, manages to wriggle free and commence her own assault on the young woman's ribs.

The Queen's eyes sparkle as she sees the spasms of laughter subside. Flori lifts the young girl out of the water. Breha smiles gently as she thinks of the ease with which the caretaker now moves to and fro in the mountain lake. From not even being able to get into the water.

A tribute to the persistence and training of a slightly older young woman; a huntress now hopefully enjoying the longest respite she has taken since becoming the Fulcrum.

The longest respite barring serious injury.

Breha moves her expression back to the joy that she sees on both young faces. "Hello, Flori," the Queen says. "I see that my daughter is well and truly waterlogged."

A sheepish grin splits the crimson features. "She wanted to swim some more, my Queen," Flori says with a bow. "Kinda wanted to myself." She and Leia rub their noses together as she hands her to the Queen and the waiting towel.

Breha's eyebrows rise as she sees sadness behind the laughter in Flori's eyes. "Are you alright, my dear?" she asks.

Flori shakes her head, as if dispelling the sadness. "Yes, my Queen. I am fine. Just...very happy. Happy to serve Leia and you. She is a joy."

Breha's expression says that she does not believe the response. She does not comment. Instead, she pulls the young woman into a one-armed embrace. "We are glad you are a part of our family, Flori. Especially since the little terror here has not frightened you off." A giggle emits from the bundle wrapped in the towel. A sound matched from the young woman. She touches the Zeltron's face and breaks away. "Bail and I are taking Leia off of your hands for a day or so. You deserve a rest." She waves her hand at the protest. "Nope. I insist." Her expression grows mischievous. "I know you do a good job of masking your resonance while you are around Leia," she whispers. "We appreciate it. We are not quite ready to answer _those_ questions, quite yet. The Mother knows we get enough about certain words that my little Queen picks up from a certain huntress of our acquaintance." She smiles at the young woman’s smirk. "So, enjoy yourself a bit. That is a command. To help you do so, I brought someone who I found lurking around the Palace." She steps aside.

A young woman with a mass of dark blonde curls stands behind her on the trail, her sparkling brown eyes gazing at Flori. Breha smiles as she sees Flori's blue eyes transition to black.

The gift of the young woman, the one that she has suppressed to quell questions from a near-five year old, burbles to the surface again.

Breha feels it in her center as Flori's face lights up. She nods and turns away to walk back to the aircar. As she does, she is sure that it will be time for Leia's nap when they return to the Palace. _Think I might need to visit the Senator's office for consultation._ She shakes her head, as a vision of light blossoms in her head. A vision of staring down at the Senator's beloved face as she straddles his middle.

Flori smirks as she feels the emotions flowing towards her, both from the departing Queen, and the young diner-owner walking towards her.

Meglann Florlin matches her expression as she stops in front of Flori. "So. How private is this lake?"

"Very."

"Good. Because I didn't bring a swimsuit," the young Alderaani says. Without a word, Flori reaches for her belt buckle. After a second, Meglann reaches down and lifts the hem of her tank top.

Their lips touch and meld. Flori sees Meglann's knees seem to weaken as she sends a ghost of a tongue into the other's mouth.

As they both walk into the water, hand-in-hand, the feeling of dread in Flori's stomach grows.

~=~=~=~=~=

The Captain of the Imperial Stardestroyer _Illuminator_ watches the stars shift back to their pin pricks with annoyance. A hyperspace comm had initiated the pausing of their mission. A message sent directly from Imperial Center, with the seal of COMPNOR attached.

_Pick up an important passenger to accompany, observe, and if necessary, take command of mission._

_Nothing like an 'observer' to kriff things up,_ she thinks. She watches as an Imperial shuttle approaches and boards.

The stormtrooper commander, an empty suit who doesn't even bother to wear his armor, already planning his promotion to Colonel or even General, no doubt, walks up, followed by his senior officer. A Major who by rights should command the legion, who had once commanded a predecessor unit.

A much larger predecessor unit. As a sign of regard for the thousands of clonetroopers she had served with in the last war, she nods at the Major first, before acknowledging the suit.

In a credit to his stupidity, the Commander doesn't notice.

The Captain hasn't even bothered to learn his name. Major Bly stands respectfully behind his Commander, his helmet under his arm. New Imperial doctrine calls for stormtroopers, even officers to maintain their helmets on at all time, unless they are in quarters or in dress uniforms.

Bly, like the dwindling number of clones remaining in Imperial service, chooses to ignore many protocols. Especially as they are being cast aside. The Captain's eyes grow sad as she thinks of the loyalty of these men, as she sees the lines and gray hair in the close cropped auburn hair over his skull.

She turns as she senses a new arrival behind her. Her eyes narrow as they fall on the hooded figure. The Captain looks at her with immediate dislike as she sees the olive green-yellow features.

Four rows of diamond shaped-tattoos start at her left temple, bisecting her nose. The markings end abruptly under her right eye, as if cut off.

Cut off by a heavy metal plate on the cheek. One ice-chip blue eye stares out on the left side.

The other orb glows red. The red of an artificial photoreceptor.

The woman, of which the Captain is more sure of now, removes her hood. More metal plating is visible on the left side of her shaven skull. Shaven except for an incongruous strip of red hair sticking out of her skull.

She surveys the three of them with a sneer on her scarred lips. "My name is Stane. I am an ISB contractor. You've seen my orders. I am in charge."

"Orders say you are to be an observer first," the ship's Captain says. A smile twists the features. It is not an improvement on the sneer.

"Figured I would skip the niceties, given Imperial officers' ability to fuck things up."

The woman ignores the naval officer's anger. Her eyes fall on Bly. The features twist even further. "Wasn't aware any clones were left in the Corps. Maybe you should give me one reason why I shouldn't space you right now, meat-droid," she says.

"Probably because I have a blaster pointed at your middle. I caress the trigger, your smoking guts are on the deck."

The Captain smirks as she hears the bleat of protest from the stormie Commander.

"I know who you are, Leve Stane," Blay says coldly. "I know that you murdered clone prisoners in the war as Seppie scum. I have to work for you, but I will tell you this. If any of my brothers who remain in this unit get so much as an unwarranted hangnail because of you, I will rip off your head and shit down your neck. I won't lose any sleep and will gladly stand up against a wall for it."

She stares at him and the unrelenting dark eyes and the blaster held on her middle. The approximation of a smile returns. "Just as long as we understand each other, clone."

She turns as if dismissing him. "Captain," she says, "best speed to Zeltros. Once there, you have a change of orders. You are being re-deployed to Lord Vader's direct command. You will drop off the infantry battalion and I, then proceed to rendezvous with the _Devastator_."

"What about the mechanized units and the air train?" Bly asks.

"You won't need it. Not for a bunch of peace-loving empaths."

All three of the officers stare at her, in turn. After a moment, the Captain nods and turns away.

Bly turns away from his commander and the Seppie. He shakes his head. _This trip is getting better and better by the minute._

~=~=~=~=~=

Flori Laken starts awake with a cry. Her body shakes from the remnants of the nightmare. A nightmare that cuts through her whole being. The young human woman in the bed next to her immediately seizes her in her arms and draws her to her chest.

Flori smiles as Meglann begins a rhythmic rocking of her.

"Shh, babe. I got you." Meglann kisses her gently, her thumb brushing the tears away. "Scary monsters?" she whispers as her lips replace her thumbs under the eyes.

The young Zeltron touches the diner-owner's lips with her own. Her tongue lightly moves between the Alderaani's lips and touches hers.

"Better, now," she whispers against Meglann's skin. She pulls the young woman down on top of her. Meglann's lips lock on her breasts, as her gift - the gift of her people grows in the mountain air.

Later, as the light recedes and Meglann sleeps again, Flori remains awake, watching the breeze blow the curtains over the window. Her blue eyes are troubled as they remember the nightmare. A vision of her father, an eminent scientist.

A man obsessed by the heritage and tradition of a forbidden art. The vision is of her father, not as she remembered him, but with a strange device implanted in his skull, his hands on the head of a beautiful young Zeltron woman.

The young woman screams in pain as he rips into her resonance, to her mind.

She sees blood flowing from the beautiful purple and black eyes and her nose.

The tears return to her eyes as she thinks of the idea of her own blood practicing a style of execution normally reserved for those that he studies.

She shakes her head and smiles at the warm breath against her breast. She eases out from under Meglann, gently laying the Alderaani's head on the pillow as she gets out of bed.

She pads over to a small chest on the dresser. She opens it and gazes at what is within.

She feels the warmth of her resonance responding to what is within. A warmth that draws her to the object, wrapped in heavy, waterproof cloth. As she begins to unwrap the cloth, she can see a light glow being revealed. She stops and takes the object out of the box and walks into the living area, closing the door.

She sits on the couch and lays the object on the table. She closes her eyes and centers her resonance. She opens them and begins to finish the revelation.

The object sits exposed on the table. She runs her hands over the surface, avoiding one specific area.

A nondescript, but beautifully crafted book rests in the wrappings. The brown leather-wrapped wood of the cover stares at her.

The small raised metal device in the center locks her attention. She starts as she realizes that the gold is glowing.

It is the source of the slight glow. Of the warmth.

An ancient symbol. A symbol of power, but of darkness and pain.

The symbol of the _Bahlan-ki._ The Clan of the Benders.

She hurriedly re-wraps the small, but heavy volume and returns it to its heavily shielded receptacle.

She is troubled as she climbs into the bed and loses herself in the young woman's warmth. Meglann mumbles as she snuggles closer to Flori.

The light of the young woman in her resonance dispels the darkness.

The memory lingers.

Flori’s eyes close as she thinks about how to find out what the object does.


	4. Family History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahsoka helps her fixer heal. A brother remembers the madness of Order 66 and its affects on his loved ones.
> 
> A Separatist remembers her list as her anger burns.

Ahsoka can tell, as soon as Nola dismounts from her speederbike and the usual mixture of snark and affection is dispensed with, that something is wrong. The tall young Naboo grimaces in pain as she disengages from their embrace.

The grimace is not fleeting, as her face turns ashen and her respirations increase. Without another word, Ahsoka lifts her in her arms and turns towards the hidden cave entrance. Nola starts to protest but stops. She lays her head against the huntress's shoulder and closes her eyes.

Ahsoka feels the tears dampening her shoulder as she ducks her montrals under the stone of the entrance.

She smiles down at Nola's expression of relaxation in the steaming water. Nola had started to protest again as Ahsoka had sat her down and set about removing her clothing.

The protests had stilled when she had turned and seen the steaming pool. Without another word, she had managed to climb down into the pool and find one of the ledges that she could rest on with her shoulders completely submerged. She had closed her dark eyes and rested her head against the wall.

Nola feels herself drifting in the hot water, drowsing as the water seeps into her pain and soothes it. Her eyes snap open as she feels herself falling deeper into sleep. The young Naboo raises an eyebrow as she sees Ahsoka sitting on the edge of the pool, her boots and socks off and her orange feet soaking in the pool. She rests back on the palms of her hands, her eyes fixed on the sun playing through the open hole of the cave roof.

Nola watches her for a moment. Her own eyes soften as she sees the young huntress lost in thought.

She is fairly certain that Fulcrum thinks of complications in her life.

A complication with a crooked grin and a longer history than most with the ex-Jedi. Nola waits patiently for Ahsoka to come out of her reverie. She realizes that the powerful blue eyes are locked on her own. She smiles. "Hey, Tano." she says. "Welcome back from the land of wherever-the-hell-you-were-gone."

"Hey, No-no," comes the reply in the bright, clear voice that cuts through her. "Just waiting for you to wake up from your nap." Ahsoka's eyes darken with concern as Nola looks down. "Are you okay, Nola?" she adds.

"Yeah, Ahsoka. No," she amends. "No, I am not."

Ahsoka waits patiently for clarification. Nola steels herself and shakes her head at the Togruta's quizzical expression. "Can I just go with the first answer?"

Her responsibility's expression indicates that she will not accept the answer.

"I can barely walk, Tano. I can barely get myself out of bed every morning. I shouldn't have pushed myself so hard to get out of the fucking hoverchair. Hell, I shouldn't have been anywhere near a goddamned speederbike, much less riding one out here. Dr. Hegridarha told me as much."

Ahsoka is silent, merely watching her. Listening.

"But I see you get out of bacta after nearly burning your arms to the bone and go off and save the universe. Hell, that Corellian idiot that seems to be making you look up at the sky a lot, got up after getting a lightsaber through his hand like nothing happened."

Ahsoka's blue eyes lance at her at the last words, then calm. She silently rises and pads over to where the young fixer sits. She lowers herself behind Nola and taps her shoulder gently. Nola rises up to another ledge sits. She hears Ahsoka crack her knuckles. She hears Ahsoka take a deep breath as if steeling herself, then place her cooler hands on her handler’s bare shoulders.

The young ex-Padawan begins to knead the muscles of her shoulders. Her thumbs and fingers, roughened by war, are at times gentle and forceful on the tortured muscles and nerves. Nola moves her own hands to the bare lower legs and feet of the warrior as they hang over her shoulders. She hears Ahsoka take a deep breath.

As if gathering her courage to say what needs to be said. "You're right, Nola," she says quietly. "You should just go curl up and pull the covers around your ears, let the galaxy pass you by. Let me fly out there with my ass hanging out." She takes a sip from a water bottle she has produced from the cargo pocket of her green trousers. Idly, Nola thinks that the trousers bear close resemblance to fatigue trousers worn by Corellian Security personnel. Trousers rolled up above her knees.

Ahsoka puts the bottle to the Naboo's lips and lets her drink. She caps the bottle when Nola has drank her fill and returns to her ministrations. "You give me such shit about the risks that I take. It has nearly destroyed our relationship several times. Well, sweetie, you might want to think about why I can take such risks."

She grits her teeth. "It is because I have a handler who, if I really get into the shit, will move heaven and earth to get me out of it. You think that you are going to have to mourn me some day. That it will tear you apart."

"Honey, if I am bleeding out on some world, I don't worry about my death. I worry that I might cause you to get hurt or die."

Nola is silent for a moment. "You have Covenant, now, Ahsoka. You have your Protector."

"Yeah, well, who is going to pull his ass out of the fire when he does something incredibly stupid to get me out?" They both laugh ruefully at that. "For the first time, No-no, I feel like I might survive this whole thing. I feel that you might as well. It is not just you, but I have Dani and Bryne, and even Lassa looking out for us both." She taps Nola on the side of her head. "Don't think that you have to bounce back so quickly, twit," she says. "Bryne and I are not exactly great examples to use for healing. For the most part, we have the Force to help us. We are also pretty stubborn and stupid, as well."

"I hadn't really noticed." Nola says. She squeaks as an orange hand shoves downward on the top of her head, off of the ledge and completely under water.

As the laughter and sputtering subsides, Nola reaches up and touches Ahsoka's face. "Okay, Tano. Point taken. But what is bothering you? More to the point, I thought that you would be naked by now and in this water with me. We are coming up on the wrestling match," she finishes with a hooded look.

Ahsoka avoids her eye. "I think you are mistaken. We just got that over with."

Nola stands and turns. She places her arms on Ahsoka's knees. "Nope. I think that all that time you have spent in bacta has affected your memory. You last enjoyed my awesomeness almost a year ago. I know it because I met Bryne again soon after that."

Ahsoka looks away. Nola closes her eyes. "I know I haven't apologized enough to you for that, Ahsoka," she says quietly. "I kept your secret to him, but I kept his secret to you. I think I was wrong on both counts. I should've brought you both together."

She looks away, after opening her eyes and seeing the unfathomable look in Fulcrum's eyes. Ahsoka reaches down and places her forehead against Nola's. "No. I am over that, No-no. You did what you had to do, just like Bryne and I each did what we had to do. I was pretty pissed at you, but I know it was not your secret to tell. Just like mine was not yours to tell."

She kisses the younger woman on the forehead. "It is one of the things that I trust the most about you. That you will keep my secrets."

"So why aren't we kriffing our brains out now?" Nola asks. "Is it Covenant?" She blanches. "Are you married or some shit like that?"

"What? No! Hell no!" She Smirks. "Besides. I am already married." Nola nearly falls back into the water. Ahsoka lets her off of the hook after a moment. "At least a cover name is." She smiles softly. "My cover name is happily married to a beautiful Pantoran Senator."

Nola rolls her eyes. "Oh. Thought she was looking kind of longingly at you when you were in bacta."

Ahsoka's expression sobers. She looks down, contemplating the roiling water. "Covenant and I actually discussed it, but we decided we couldn't be together in the way that a mating takes in my culture. We decided we won't be exclusive, but we know what we mean to each other."

Nola nods.

"No, the reason that I am not in that water with you is less noble. A goddamned silly-ass bet of abstinence. For the next month."

"What are the stakes?" Nola asks, her eyes gleaming.

"That's the silliest part. Nothing galaxy-shattering."

"So let me get this straight. You made a bet with your hunt-brother, which, as I understand it, means that there already is a bond in your culture. Centered around your hearts, minds, and skills, but also around your groins. A bet that has no real consequence. A bet that makes both your lives - lives that could end in the next moment - that much more difficult to live and fight the darkness."

"Yeah. It sounds even stupider when you say it," Ahsoka says.

"You idiots."

~=~=~=~=~=

Nola watches the tiny _Aethersprite_ mate with the hyperspace ring. They had decided that Nola would take a slow hyperspace lane back to Alderaan, while doing more treatments with her doctor.

She had not told Fulcrum who she was rendezvousing with at Bothuwai Proper.

Nor where they were headed. Nor what was going on other than business at said destination.

A mischievous smile plays across Nola's beautiful features. She picks up her comm and sends a text to two different commcodes. One to someone already winding her way to Bothuwai.

The other just getting ready to serve breakfast in a small diner on a beautiful world. A world that Nola now calls home and serves the Royal family on.

She sends a third text to a Dragon.

~=~=~=~=~=

Leve Stane watches the blue mass of light that is hyperspace in the port of her assigned quarters. She thinks of how she got to this point in her life. A career as an officer in the Separatist military. A reputation for cruelty that rivaled any of the other officers of races that had actually joined the Separatist cause.

A reputation fostered by the fact that she was already an outcast on her homeworld. An outcast with ideas about force and order that put her at odds with her peaceful people. Unlike her fellow Mirialans, she felt no kinship with the world around her. Her bright red hair, a genetic anomoly, set her apart from her species.

She had felt an outcast even among the Separatists.

Until she had happened upon a Corellian mercenary, serving his own cause, but with the same casual respect for violence and mayhem and their uses that she had. A handsome face and a propensity for sarcasm and heavy chromite Corellian blasters.

A wary partnership was born. One born in violence, but had fostered in a twisted sort of respect and passion.

After several months of working together, she had taken his name. She had merely looked down as they were in the throes of passion and stated it.

Their lives together had been a perfect blend of work and pleasure. Pleasure from each other, as well as the mayhem that they had caused.

After a near miss on a former Separatist world, they had looked at one another and had decided on a change. Both had answered an advert on the Darknet. An advert for sentients of their skills and disposition.

As agents of the Corporate Sector Authority Security Police. Specifically, their Special Purposes Branch.

Beings like them, who had a casual relationship with violence and a moral code only slightly north of the ancient Sith.

They had been very successful at it. Especially with side jobs, such as the occasional assassination and murder/robbery.

Until she had talked him into a sabacc game on a starliner. A starliner in which they were assisting a lower-level Authority exec in entrapping traitors. A lower-level exec who wanted to be an upper-level exec.

Until a beautiful, mysterious Togruta had beaten them at sabacc. Had beaten them and had taken the bait of the information from Odumin.

Leve's remaining organic eye darkens. She had been about to take the Togruta back to a pleasure-alcove for a bit of a reward of another type.

Her husband had other ideas. A sanctioned murder, with promotion for all concerned for the protection of the vital funds and information between the Empire and the Authority.

Until the Togruta's wife, an Imperial senator ostensibly tracking the unsanctioned use of the funds as bait had stopped them from killing the woman.

Until someone had disrupted their plans of revenge on the Senator by slicing the funds and leading the trail back to them.

Needless to say, they had to exit the liner quickly, with ISB and CorSec on their asses. She grins in her reflection. _Leaving their usual path of destruction and death in their wakes._

Jaze Stane's own thirst for revenge had lead him to attack the Senator on her ship.

The thirst had left him dead in her cabin, his own knife in his chest. It had left her with a broken body from a high fall on Ord Mantell. A fall precipitated by another two names on her litany of revenge.

A litany that she repeated every other hour.

 _Jana Roshti. Riyo Chuchi. Dani Faygan. Bryne Covenant._ Four beings who had taken the only parts of her that were important. Her husband and her calling.

She sneers as she hears the door opened without permission. Now she is what she had despised. A combination of meat-droid and actual droid. Both the playthings of a conniving ISB agent. An agent who had outplayed her in the mayhem game, by re-assembling her broken body. Outplayed her by including an explosive safety deep in her brain.

Leve Agee-Stane cared not about living, only killing those last four names.

She turns to the intruding clone. _Bly_. One of the last of his kind still in Imperial service. His eyes flash fire at her.

~=~=~=~=~=

Bly, known as CC-5052, storms out of the Separatist woman's cabin. Several flesh-born troopers hurriedly get out of his way as they see his expression, open and unconcealed, with his helmet clenched under his arm.

He enters his own cabin and deliberately places the helmet on the small desk. He strips out of his armor and lies on the bunk. His fingers pinch his nose as the headache builds behind his eyes.

A headache that has been with him ever since the fateful Order had sent him and his troopers on an orgy of destruction.

Destruction of the Jedi. Since that time, the vaunted 327th Star Corps has been reduced to a single legion. A battalion of stormtroopers, mostly made up of the flesh-born conscripts and volunteers.

His _Vode_ had been gradually retired until only he and five of his senior officers remained from the thousands in the multi-battalion Corps. His influence had further been reduced when he had been demoted from his lofty status as a Marshal-Commander to that of simple senior Captain in the legion. They had even re-titled his rank from the familiar of the Grand Army of the Republic.

_Major._

A Commander had been placed over him. A human Commander, whose incompetence had only grown in the short time he had been placed in charge.

A Stormtrooper Commander who refused to wear even the cheap stormtrooper armor.

Bly twists the palms of his hands in his amber eyes as the memories increase his headache. His hands fall from his eyes as he recalls the face of his General.

The General that he had shot in the back, triggering a fusilade of blaster shots into her body.

Until he had fired the final shot in her forehead, below the gently twitching lekku, finally stilling the hazel eyes.

He falls asleep with the memories of those eyes in his head. As he had for the thousand nights since that one on a lush world.

~=~=~=~=~=

Bly's fingers trace the soft skin of the Twi'lek's hip as both of their breathing steadies. He replaces his fingers with his lips, eliciting a purr from his General. From his lover.

"You know exactly how to relax me, dear," she says. "My strong trooper," she adds with a smile. Aayla Secura rolls to her back. His mouth naturally moves to her core with the shift. The purr turns to a growl. "No, love," she says. "We only have an hour or so before stand-to. I need some rest, as do you."

His face collapses on her thigh as he realizes the truth of her words. He crawls up to lie next to her, his head pillowed on her shoulder. He sighs as her unbound lekku twines about his close-cropped hair. "Probably wouldn't have lasted this long, if Kit had been with us," he says with a grin. She smiles softly as she thinks of their occasional other lover, of the combinations they had been able to achieve with the other Jedi Master.

"You both can wear me out," she says with a laugh. Her eyes lock with his. She seizes his head and devours his lips.

"Aayla, what are we going to do? Everyone says the war is winding down. What will happen to you and me?"

She is silent. He brings his mouth to her breast, his tongue circling the hard tip. Between intakes of breath, she replies, "I don't know, Bly. I don't really want to think of more than today. It is how I have gotten through the other thousand days of this war."

They both lapse into silence at that. Their breathing matches and becomes steady, as the morning begins to lighten.

~=~=~=~=~=

Bly wakes up from his memories with a start. His eyes close and he puts his head in his hands as he hears the musical accent of his ghost.

His brain thrums. _Good soldiers follow orders._

_But what if those orders cause the slaughter of your loved ones?_


	5. The Moves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahsoka meets her contact and realizes it may be a long trip. A Dragon remembers a mother.
> 
> Imperial upward mobility.

Ahsoka wakes as Arseven beeps. The stars revert to their twinkling bulbs from the blue, twisting chaos of hyperspace. Her eyes widen as she sees an old, green-with-a-hint-of-black-striped _Consular._

Her center involuntarily twitches as she thinks about who lives on this ship. She closes her eyes. _I think the Force wants me to lose this damned bet._ She shakes her head, thinking dark thoughts about her fixer.

She sighs. She didn't exactly ask what the mission was beyond a rendezvous above the spy-planet with an operative.

 _Oh well. Let's get this over with. I can only hope there is a cold shower in my future._ She rolls her eyes as she thinks of the only time that she and the Captain of the vessel had come close to....

In a shower on this very vessel. While getting her ready to go out and escape the existence of being Fulcrum in the retail area of Coronet City.

Ahsoka rubs her eyes with her knuckles. She smiles as she thinks of the warmth and friendship that the Zeltron cop and spy had given her, since they had met. Warmth and friendship with the promise of more if she needed it.

Of course, the empathic resonance, what some of the uneducated call pheremones, often provides that promise.

That and a particular greeting when they embrace. Fulcrum sighs as she feels Arseven disengage the hyperdrive ring. She sees the ring maneuver, fold, and attach itself to one of the engines of the old ship. The little astromech maneuvers near the bow of the battered ship.

She sees what normally is a salon pod for diplomatic meetings on most ships of this class, but more rectangular than cylindrical, open from the ventral. Her eyes widen as she realizes it is a tiny hangar. An _Eta Actis_ Jedi interceptor is locked in a cradle above her. She realizes she had seen another hyperspace ring folded and stored on the other outer engine.

As the ventral doors close and her ship's engines power down, she sees a ladder on the aft side of the chamber. Two small ramps fold to her wing, one for her, and one for the droid tube on the opposite side. There is just enough clearance for the canopy to open. She steps out and begins to climb the ladder.

She stops and rests her forehead on the ladder, before she reaches the hatch behind the Eta. Memories flow to her mind. Memories of a young naval officer, her pride for her small command on a desert hellhole, as they discussed a mutual acquaintance over hot chocolate.

Of a clone captain teaching her how to salute properly. Of her master and Taliesin Croft walking towards the ship together. Of the young naval officer greeting the new General and knight with snark and affection. Of something in their eyes as they saluted each other.

She continues up the ladder. _Face your ghosts, Tano,_ her mind says.

_Easier said than done. Especially on this ship._

~=~=~=~=~=

The hatch to the hangar signals its opening. Ahsoka is struck by a wave of warmth and comfort, mixed with what she expected. Daaineran Faygan stands in the corridor, a broad smile on her crimson features. She moves towards Ahsoka, her eyes laughing.

Ahsoka tries to keep her breathing under control as Dani pulls her into a tight embrace. The warm skin of Dani's bare shoulders against her face does little to slow her respirations. Neither does the squeak that she gives as Ahsoka preemptively gives the officer's own trademark greeting.

 _Might've been a mistake_ , Ahsoka thinks at the feel of Dani's ass under her fingers.

Dani's eyes flash to the black as she places a kiss on Ahsoka's lips.

For just a brief second before Fulcrum pulls away. The older woman's resonance is not at the low burble that it usually is.

It seems to be focused on her with increasing power.

She does not see the soft smile that Dani gives as Ahsoka looks down. She gently frees herself from the embrace, softening the escape with a touch of Dani's face. Her eyes track back up to meet Dani's eyes, transitioning slowly back to their usual purple. There is something about the look that Dani gives her that is very familiar.

Something that she has seen on another. An older face. She can't quite place it.

For a brief moment, there is another look on Dani's face as she drinks Ahsoka in.

A look of intense grief, that is quickly gone. The broad smile returns, as does the laughter in the bright eyes. Ahsoka takes the moment to look at Dani, as the officer continues her inspection of Fulcrum.

Dani is dressed for a different type of battle than Ahsoka is with her old and serviceable vest and fatigue trousers, her powerful arms encased in bands mid-arm. A hint of white markings, an indicator of her heritage pokes out from the bracers on her forearms.

Dani, for her part, is clad in a white halter, that leaves little to the imagination as it dips down to just above the Zeltron's bare midriff.

A light, airy skirt falling to sandaled feet completes her battle dress.

Ahsoka is fairly certain that she might be drooling. She sees Dani's tongue peeking out between her full lips.

"So," Dani says in her musical alto. "How's the sausage on Shili?"

 _Does this ship have an icemaker I can dive into?_ Ahsoka thinks. _Or should I just start saving up my credits now for that smirk on Covenant's face?_

~=~=~=~=~=

Bail Organa watches fondly as Draq' Bel Iblis sits reading to his daughter. The Senator and Viceroy-Consort of Alderaan smiles as he sips his caf, watching the fierce Dragon of Corellia recite each part of the holobook in a different voice. Leia sits rapt at times, and giggling at others.

Draq' finishes the story with a flourish, grabbing the laughing handful and blowing a long raspberry on the girl's belly.

Bail sees the older man's eyes grow soft as Leia grabs him around the neck. The eyes grow even softer as Leia's Zeltron caretaker walks in to take the girl to bed. As she takes the already fading bundle from the Dragon's arms, she sees his sad expression. She dips her eyes and places her hand on the Corellian's face. She nods, her own eyes sad. They both share a look.

Bail hears a whispered word from the young woman.

_Abeeyah._

_Father--but of the heart._

Both men, both fathers are silent. "What is it, old friend?" Bail asks. "Ordinarily you would be crowing about besting Sienar and Kuat in our tripartite deal. What is going on in that sneaky-assed brain of yours?"

Draq' takes a sip of his caf and makes a face. Bail pulls out a flask and pours it into the cup. The Corellian takes a sip and nods approvingly. He takes a long time to answer.

"Your sweetie just made me think. Same with her caretaker." He smiles tightly. "Made me think about lost time."

Bail puts his cup down and listens intently. "I didn't know what to do after Laira died," Draq' says quietly. "I dived into work. Garm was raised by governesses and tutors." He closes his eyes. "I probably deserved the fact that he called a goddamned protocol droid 'Dad," he says ruefully.

"After several years of trying to connect with him, I think I gave up a bit. That is when I headed to Zeltros with my brother-in-law to help them with some light industry other than pleasure and tourism. I reactivated my CorSec commission to go as his bodyguard."

"You helped me promote the result of those six months on Zeltros. You are one of the few outside of the few in the immediate family that know."

"Does Dani know?" Bail asks.

"Don't know. Don't care. Someday the time will be right for us to acknowledge each other." He takes a sip of his enhanced caf. "I think that what she knows, is how so very proud I am of her. I hope some day that I can tell her how much I loved her mother. How she helped me heal."

Bail nods as he takes this in. "And Garm?"

"He knows. He respects my wishes as far as Dani goes. He has said a few stupid things when we have been arguing about some silly shit or other, but he keeps the secret. He loves Dani as a sister." Draq' smiles again. "I think that my time on Zeltros helped our relationship. I think we began to understand each other a bit more after I came back."

"I am proud of all of my children, Bail. Dani, Nola, Bryne, Garm. That huntress of yours. Even that little bastard Touchstone."

Bail can only nod. They both rise and embrace. "We are heading back to Alderaan, now. We'll make the transit now in order to arrive mid-afternoon there."

"Clear skies, Bail. May the Force be with you," Draq' says.

"And with you, Dragon."

As Draq' makes his way off of the _Tantive IV_ to his own bed, his mind flows back to the past. The past of three decades ago on a beautiful world.

~=~=~=~=~=

Ahsoka watches Dani deftly maneuver the old cruiser from Bothuwai Proper orbit to the nearest hyperspace lane. Ahsoka turns back and looks at the planet wistfully as it moves from view. There had been no time to even stop and greet one of her more important contacts. An old Togruta bartender, who had been with her since before she had become Fulcrum.

When her world had died around her. She shakes her head at the memory. As the stars shift for the jump, she realizes that Dani is watching her. She feels the blue of her lekku shifting in color under the scrutiny.

"What?" she asks. Dani's warm smile touches her lips. "Oh, nothing, dear. Nothing at all."

Ahsoka tries to ease the orange flush from her skin, as well as tamp down the feelings of lust. _What the hell is wrong with you?_

"So what is our mission? Why do you need me?"

"Oh, many reasons, dear." Ahsoka's eyes narrow. Dani notices. "But mostly I need your apparent skills of dealing with idiots."

"Marvelous. I guess it is good to have a recognizable and marketable skill," the agent says. The pilot laughs. Ahsoka decides that it is a beautiful, musical sound. She shakes the thought away.

"It is true. You did pretty well with Stornan."

Ahsoka snorts. "Not all that great. Nearly burned my goddamned arms to the bone. Others did all of the heavy lifting while I was lazing around in bacta."

"Bryne told me that you could be so full of shit at times. Self-deprecating shit." Daaineran smiles. "Not like him at all." She sobers. "I was there after you left, just before the Imperial task force jumped in. The others followed your lead. They fulfilled your wishes. That is pretty powerful in itself."

Ahsoka says nothing. She turns and looks out at the viewport. Dani places her fingers beneath her chin and turns her head back. "You did good, Fulcrum. It was your decision afterwards to give them the money." They are both silent for a moment.

"So what do you need, Dani?" She sees the gleam in the Zeltron's eyes. "Other than that," she says firmly, mentally kicking herself.

"Some idiots on my homeworld are starting to do minor sabotage of Imperial military targets. Up to now, the Imperials have used a light hand on the Home." Even Ahsoka can hear the capital letter in the word. "Many Imperial muckety-mucks use it for a vacation and pleasure spot; we think that is why. Some of my family think that may be ending with this group of off-worlders. Nobody has been killed, just sabotage, but according to my cousin, the head idiot isn't listening to reason. Too much influence from Cham Syndulla."

She sees Ahsoka close her eyes and shake her head. "Tori Laken." she says softly.

Dani's eyebrows raise. "You know him?"

"Yeah. I may be responsible for his stupidity."

"How?"

"Let's just say we have a complicated history."

"A groin-y one?" Dani gives a suggestive twist of her hips.

"No! Geez! Why does your mind always go to that?"

"It is what I do, sweetie," Dani says with a grin.

Ahsoka gives a rueful smile. "No. Although I did offer to teach him, his brother, and his sister a few things. Just to calm them down when I was trying to get them and a bunch of other slaves out of an Imperial officer's grasp."

Dani smiles at that image. "So why do you think you created him?"

"He blames me for the death of his brother during the escape."

Dani sobers as she sees Ahsoka's expression. She places her hand over the ex-Jedi's. Ahsoka feels the raw comfort and empathy through the resonance. "His sister doesn't seem to. I got her to Alderaan and got her a job, a new life." She looks down. "He joined Cham."

"Sweetie, you can't blame yourself for him being a grieving asshole who won't see reason."

"Maybe. But the fact remains that he might be a bit driven by anger. Maybe I can do something about that." Ahsoka says.

"So who is your contact?" she asks Dani.

"My cousin. My mother's brother's daughter. She is a little older than me, about five years. She is a doctor and a member of the Capitoline Council, as well as a staffer for the ruling Council."

She looks at Ahsoka. "There is plenty of time to talk about the mission. Alyysina can tell us more when we get there. You can sleep if you like." She eyes transition to black. "Or not."

Ahsoka rolls her eyes. "Or we could just talk."

Dani laughs. "Yeah. We could do that." Her eyes shift back to the usual. She grows serious. "So how is Bryne? Really?" Ahsoka is touched by the worry in her voice.

"He is good, Dani." Her eyes grow distant. "We had a good rest. Ironed some things out."

"I am glad, dear. You may have saved him."

"Dani, what is he to you? Am I intruding into something......?"

The older woman shakes her head. "No. We comfort each other. Sometimes with each other's bodies, sometimes with each other's hearts and minds."

"I have known him longer than most who are alive, except for you." She smiles. "I met him on a mission that he and his Master took to Corellia, just before the war." Ahsoka nods, remembering. "I was being accosted by some thugs who were actually looking for him. I was undercover."

"Didn't need his help. Had everything under control and just where I wanted the four or so thugs. I had already hit one in the fist with my nose."

Ahsoka laughs gently.

"He was amazing, but he never gave any hint he was charging in like some knight or something."

"It was only about a half-hour before we were fucking." Ahsoka starts at the blunt word.

Dani smiles. "Zeltrons don't use soft words for an act of the heart and the body, dear. We find it hard to 'make' love. You can't make something that is a part of life."

Ahsoka is thoughtful. Dani watches as she sees the servos turning. Dani's face crumples at the familiarity of the sharp canine worrying the lip. She struggles to keep the grief and memory off of her own face. She sees Ahsoka come to a decision. "So.....?"

"How was he?" Dani asks with a smile.

"Just for purely research purposes. Comparisons, of course," Ahsoka says with a Smirk.

Dani shares her laughter. "He knew what he was doing. I kind of taught him a few things."

"Thank you for that, by the way." The laughter continues.

Dani looks at Ahsoka. "He like a brother to me, but so much more, Ahsoka. 

Ahsoka is struck by the power of the woman's words. "I know that when he thought you were lost, Ahsoka, I didn't know if he would survive on top of the loss of his wife. But he kept getting back up."

"I see him living again when he fights with you. You have my undying affection and regard for that, love," Dani says. She matches the huntress's Smirk. "Not to mention my lust."

Their laughter continues for several moments in the cold of hyperspace.

Dani sobers as her thoughts move to a word for that brother. As well as one for this woman sitting next to her. She starts to whisper it. 

_No. It is not the time._

~=~=~=~=~=

Superintendent Draq' Bel Iblis, Corellian Security (Reserve), watches the Elector-Presumptive and Covenant of Corellia work the room. He sips at his drink, an ale that will allow him to keep his head. He smiles at the other Corellian.

The Covenant catches his eye and gives his crooked grin. A slight, rueful shrug of the man's shoulders at Draq's smirk is the only other response to the CorSec reserve officer's raised eyebrow.

Draq' surveys the room. No threats there, except maybe to the Covenant's virtue. _That ship has already sailed, bud,_ he thinks. His eyes grow sad as he thinks of what the heir had told him last night. Of a plan that would set the Covenant free from his burdens.

"So. You see anything that you like?" A musical voice intrudes into his thoughts. He turns, expecting to see someone closer to his height.

He looks slightly further down than he expected into a pair of skeptical amber eyes. Large eyes in a beautiful crimson face. Lustrous blue hair that was a hallmark of some members of the sons and daughters of Zeltros. He struggles with the feelings of arousal and warmth he has been feeling since he came into the room. Her curves, clad in a revealing business suit - the mixture of pleasure and business of the Zeltrons, are not helping the matter.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"I've seen you check out the asses of everybody here, except the Corellian prince or whatever he is."

Draq' grins at the frank question. "Already seen his. I've seen better."

He lets her off of the hook. "He is also my brother-in-law."

"Ahh. So you are the one they call the Dragon."

"Guilty. You have the advantage of me, ma'am."

"I do try," she says with a warm smile. "You don't look all that fierce to me, Dragon. Maybe you are more of a squishy stuffed Dragon."

His eyebrows get quite the workout. "Never been said before. Most are more impressed."

"Not easily impressed. The taller and more fierce they are, the harder they fall into my bed."

He looks over at the Covenant. The insufferable brother-in-law seems to have stopped working the room and looks at him with a mixture of affection, humor, and something else.

_Hope._

Draq's eyes flash. He turns back to the young woman. "So why are you so small? Most of your people are taller."

"I got brains instead of height. Plus, I'm not all that small. I am exactly 1.7 meters," she says, as if proud of that fact.

"So when are you fully grown?"

"When you actually grow a personality, Reptile." He smiles. For the first time in a long time, since a young woman's hand slipped from his on her sickbed, he feels something in his chest.

"So are you going to tell me your name? Why are you here? I have to be here."

"Yeah. I see. You are checking everybody's ass for weapons." She extends her hand. "I do too. I am checking out everybody's ass because I enjoy it. Alyysina Faygan. Assistant Chief Design Engineer for the Blastech Zeltron operation."

He smiles. "You design blasters?"

"Yep."

"I take back what I said about your height."

She merely smiles. The warmth of her skin on his distracts him. He looks up at his principal. The Covenant of Corellia, soon to be a resident of Mandalore, is laughing at him, his gray eyes gazing at the pair.

He is unable to use a gesture from the Covenant's future homeworld in public.

Jamestyn Blackthorn continues to laugh.

Draq' Bel Iblis starts awake at the memories. He brushes the tears away as he sits up in bed.

~=~=~=~=~=

Supervisory ISB Agent Dav Kolan walks into the flag quarters of the orbiting Imperial Stardestroyer _Vengeance_. He snaps to attention and bows.

His former Captain rises and walks over to him, his hand outstretched. “Hello, Trigger,” Moff Jano Secor says to the agent. “Been a couple of months. You did well on that Krell job. Plus you kept me out of it.”

“It was my pleasure, sir.” Kolan looks at his mentor. “I owe you a lot, Captain, er, Your Excellency.”

“Please, Dav. Captain is fine. Seems like that was my last honest job.”

“Didn’t expect to see you on Alderaan, Moff,” Kolan says.

“Only here to give you your marching orders, Dav. I have a special job for you.”

Dav fights to keep his face expressionless. “I need you to investigate another Moff. It needs to be handled delicately.”

Kolan steels himself.

“You are familiar with Moff Dairlen Poldar, Dav?"

“We have crossed paths before.”

“What is your impression of him?” Secor motions, at Kolan’s dubious expression. “Speak freely, Commander. Always with me. You have earned the right.”

“Thought he was out for himself, no matter what the cost to anyone else,” Kolan says.

Secor smiles. “You are not wrong. There is the slight possibility that the Emperor might be that ‘someone else.”

Kolan is attentive. “Poldar has made a move towards Zeltros, seemingly to put down an insurrection. An insurrection that seems like a piddling little affair, that the Zeltrons would probably handle discreetly. He has moved in with a Stardestroyer and a Legion of stormtroopers.”

Secor looks hard at the agent. “We think that there is something there. Something related to the Zeltron’s empathic abilities. Something that Poldar can use.”

“Another ISB asset has moved to downsize the force. The stardestroyer has been re-routed to join Lord Vader’s squadron; the Legion has been cut to only the infantry battalion.”

“We would rather that the insurrection be handled, if it is even one, by the Zeltrons. Due to the popularity of Zeltros with many members of the elite, we would rather not have a headache in the Inner Rim that could blow up on us.”

“Where do I come in?” Dav asks.

“We have it on authority that Poldar has commissioned someone to look for some object connected to Zeltros on Alderaan. Given that there is only one Zeltron on Alderaan, we have narrowed the field down.”

Kolan nods. “I will bring them in and get the object.”

Secor shakes his head. “We need to be discreet. The young woman is attached to Organa’s household. Given what has happened there in the last year, we do not want to be interfering right now. Beside,” he says with a grin, “we don’t know the object has any connection to what Poldar wants Zeltros for. But it is too much of a coincidence.” He hands a datadisk to the younger man. “Here is what we have gleaned from some of our surveillance of Poldar over the years.” Kolan’s dark eyes narrow. Secor doesn’t meet his gaze. Kolan dismisses his dark thoughts about Imperial rivalries.

“I have some connections with the government of Alderaan. Plus some local subcontractors out there.”

Secor smirks. “Would any of these subcontractors be tall, dark, and handsome?”

“He would be none of the above, Moff,” Kolan returns the smirk.

“Try not to catch anything. Oh, and Dav….”

“Yes, Moff?” the agent replies.

“If you find something actionable, my superiors don’t want a trial.”

Kolan takes a deep breath and nods. “Very well, Moff.” He comes to attention and spins on his heels.

Secor is silent. A door to the side opens. Secor is immediately struck by an oppressive darkness. A massive, helmeted dark figure walks in. The measured beat of a powerful respirator laboriously cuts through the air.

The masked face eyes the Moff expressionlessly. “Does he understand what he is supposed to do?” a deep voice rumbles.

“Yes, my Lord. He is to investigate and take action against Poldar, if necessary.” Secor is able to call on thirty years of discipline to keep his voice steady.

“I hope so, Moff. Poldar is an old ally to the Emperor. He will need implicit proof to move against him. The Emperor also does not wish to antagonize Core Worlds right now, while we are still consolidating in the Outer Rim.”

“Commander Kolan has never failed me, Lord Vader.”

For a moment, there is only the sound of the respirator. “I should hope not, Moff. For both of your sakes. I am going to the _Perilous_.”

The atmosphere grows even more oppressive as he turns to leave.


	6. Family. You Can't Live With Them, You Can't Shoot Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two villains who aren't quite as good as they think they are. At least at this stage in their development.
> 
> A Dragon confrontation, of sorts.

Bryne Covenant walks into the cluttered basement. He grins as he sees his ‘big brother’ standing on a stool at his work table, rocking out to the questionable music flowing through his earbuds. The officer’s eyebrows climb into his hairline as he notices that Phygus Baldrick is not dressed in his usual ‘business casual’ attire.

He is clad in shorts, sandals, and a very brightly colored, almost luminescent shirt. Covenant walks quietly up to him. He dispenses with the usual surprise and touches Baldrick on his shoulder. A grin flows to the slicer’s features as he opens his eyes.

“Hey, asshole. How’s my favorite walking hard-on?” Baldrick snarks in his downcity Coruscanti accent.

“Over thirty years on Corellia, except for your time in the Temple, and you still can’t talk proper?” Covenant says without preamble.

“Some of us don’t acknowledge that we aren’t talking proper. That we are the only ones who sound intelligent in this ‘burg.”

“Do you think you could turn down the volume on that shirt? I thought the Dragon put you on a dress code when he caught you working in your underwear.”

“I don’t really pay attention. Plus, I am taking off work early today. Have a date.”

“So, is it the dispatcher, the waitress, or the Theelin in Services at CEC?” He grins. “Or is the circus in town?”

“None of the above, halfwit. I am taking Ano to show her Crowneshield.” Covenant smiles gently as he thinks of Riyo Chuchi’s ace slicer. The easy friendship between the two had grown in the last several months, although they had been separated by work for most of the time.

A friendship with someone who didn’t give her affection, or even verbal communication very easily. He pictures the thought of his brother by choice and the young Pantoran woman sightseeing in the ancient Fortress town along the coast. The shield of the capital of Corellia, Coronet City.

“Y’all try not to get into too much trouble in Lower Town, bud. Remember that technically it is my fief as Covenant. My word is law there.”

“Yeah, right. The people of _Cu´nan Ta´suíl_ might take you a little more seriously if you actually spent time there.” He sees Covenant’s expression darken as he mentions the ancient Middle Corellian words for the region around Crowneshield.

 _The Covenant-Hope._ The ancient seat of the Covenant and Protector. A region steeped in history, as well as the preservation of that and the natural world between the fortress and Coronet City.

“Yeah, well. My father did right to turn the Palace into a museum and affordable housing.”

“Maybe so. But you do have an apartment there. Along with enough money and CEC stocks to drink and plow through all of the elligible and attractive women in the Five Brothers. Or the men.” He smirks. “Even though I don’t see how you do it with that face.”

The riposte doesn’t register as he sees the distant expression on Bryne’s face. He nods slowly. “You're thinking about your Declaration, aren’t you?”

Covenant remains silent. Phygus’s expression softens. “I know, Tal,” he says, using a former name. One that cannot be spoken in public. “Is it the fact that you won’t be able to fight any more with the movement?”

“Some.” the young Corellian says quietly. Phygus nods at the power of that word.

“How is Ahsoka, by the way?”

Bryne smiles. “She is fine. We had a good month.”

“You know that you can still fight as Elector, right? Just in a different way.”

“Yeah. Protesting and harumphing my way through life ain’t exactly appealing, there, sport.”

“I don’t think that this is your real objection, bud.”

“Then what is my objection, O Wise One?”

Baldrick takes sip of water. “I think you are not very confident in your Shadow skills. That someone will recognize you as a Jedi. You are afraid for your loved ones and your Father’s world. That plus the fact that you are almost now as shitty a Force-user as I was at my peak.”

The little slicer touches his arm. “It goes against every fiber of your being as a Protector.”

Covenant again remains silent as he stares at his brother, as the impact of his words sink in. Baldrick forges ahead. “Plus there is a certain beautiful huntress as a factor. You thought she was dead. Just like the rest of your kind.” He softens. “I see the life in your eyes when you speak of her or see her. I don’t believe in that soul-mate shit, but you are important to each other.”

Covenant nods as Phygus continues. “You are afraid if you accept the Declaration as the Elector, you won’t be able to see her again, for the safety of your world and your family. It will be like she was dead for those five years.”

“Again, against your nature as a Protector,” he finishes. They are both silent for a moment.

Phygus smirks. “So you are both bound by your overwhelming self-sacrificing personalities.”

“Maybe so. But it is what makes us who we are. Who we were born to be.”

“You know, Tal, neither one of you has to fight anymore. What you have both been through, no one would bat an eye if you just went somewhere and pulled the planet in after you.”

“Or,” he says with a grin, “you can play the part of the rich royal with a beautiful, exotic Togruta huntress on his arm in a nice blue evening gown that shows her boobs off to great advantage.”

Covenant rolls his eyes. “You would like that, wouldn’t you, troll?”

“She is too classy for you.”

“No argument. But she is more at home in fatigues and battledress. Or Hunt-clothes.”

“I know. But I can dream,” the slicer says.

He grows serious. “Stand up to Draq’, if you need to, Tal. He will still love you and respect you.”

Covenant’s comm beeps. “Speaking of which, time to face the music.”

Phygus nods and pulls his little brother into a tight embrace. His expression is troubled over Covenant’s shoulder.

~=~=~=~=~=

Sina Faygan’ii sits up in her bed, sipping caf. She glances down at her snoring partner and smiles gently at the sensations in her resonance. She shakes her head, clearing her mind.

Her smile fades as she thinks of what is facing her world because of the actions of the son of Dain Laken. His late partner had been Sina’s doctoral advisor in university, a beloved mentor. She had met Dain a few times at different functions. He had always seemed driven - driven into his research into the Benders of antiquity.

So much so that she had not been surprised when the thirst for arcane knowledge had consumed him when his partner had died in a fiery airspeeder crash.

Sina’s father, at her behest, had searched for the triplets that the union had produced, to no avail. It was if they had disappeared from the planet.

Which, of course, they had. According to her cousin, the three had wound up in slavery at an Imperial base. Rescued by a soon-to-be-ally of Daaineran and her Corellian family. At the cost of one dead, one in pain, and one in anger.

Sina smiles as she thinks of her cousin. A half-human who had found herself fostering on Naboo to protect her from enemies of her _abeeyah_ , her father.

As well as from those jealous of her mother. Sina’s eyes tear as she thinks of the last time that she had seen Dani’s mother - her namesake. The sadness in her amber eyes as she looks down at a sleeping twelve year old, her eyes moving steadily in her lids. Alyys Faygan had reached down and kissed her daughter, a precious remnant of a love lost, on the forehead.

She had touched her niece’s cheek and turned and left. Her powerful emotional resonance had lingered long after the _abeeyeh_ had left. A powerful enough resonance that made her half-human daughter’s own resonance powerful enough to not be diminished by her human father’s influence.

Sina puts down her caf cup and swings her legs out of the bed. She pads to the ‘fresher and empties her full bladder. She steps into the pool located in the gargantuan bathroom and allows the steaming water to play over her strained muscles. She dips her head under the water and holds it there for as long as she and her lungs can stand. She rises and rests her head against the side of the tub.

She smiles as she feels another resonance walk into the room. She closes her eyes as the presence moves into the pool with her. She turns her back to the presence and falls backward to rest against his chest. His lips play on her neck under the damp hair.

Allysina Faygan’ii, daughter of a male line of the Fayga; medical doctor and entry level politician; and sole legitimate contact to a growing movement in the galaxy, leans against her lover’s chest.

She tries not to think of the upcoming meeting. A meeting with that same slightly younger cousin.

One whose last meeting had not gone well. A meeting in which Sina, as the only ostensibly surviving relative, had handed responsibility for the twelve-year old to a male Naboo with kind dark eyes.

The accusatory look from Daaineran’s eyes had stayed with her for years.

=+=+=+=+=+

Nola Vorserrie sits in the small outdoor cafe. She breathes in the clear mountain air of the capital city of her adopted world. She sips her wine in the late evening air. She looks up as she sees her dinner companion walk towards her. She stands and takes the young Zeltron’s hands in hers.

She kisses Flori Laken on the cheek. She manages to tamp down the hint of lust from the young woman’s resonance, having been exposed to one in some way, shape, or form for most of her life. Her eyebrows raise as she sees the caretaker looking furtively around her.

Nola’s practiced eye begins her own survey of the surrounding early evening crowd. Her eyes narrow as one of the nightlife hurriedly avoids her eye. The Naboo notes her location and locks.

She sits and takes in Flori. “It is good to see you, dear. How can I help you?” she asks the younger woman.

“Can you get in touch with Ahsoka?” Flori asks. Nola’s eyes narrow. “She is offworld, right now, sweetie. I can’t really get in touch with her,” the Hand of the Queen replies after a moment.

Her heart seizes as she sees the disappointment in the young woman’s face. “Can I help you, dear?” She smirks, in a manner that recalls the subject of their conversation. Flori calms after a moment.

She takes a sip of water. “I think that someone has been following me in the city when I have been alone.”

“What makes you say that?” Nola asks, already knowing the answer. She marks the position of the young, dark-skinned human woman who had been taking an inordinate amount of interest in the young Zeltron. She sends a discreet text from her comm.

Her eyes narrow as she sees another familiar face in the crowd. She nods slightly and sends a second text to the same person as before. After a moment, she sends a text to a distant world.

“Just a feeling in the back of my neck. I turn around and there is nobody there. Just, very weird.”

“Why do you think anyone would follow you, dear? the ex-Handmaiden asks.

“I have been making some inquiries about something from my late father’s research. He was doing a lot of research on the empathic resonance - especially those with higher-than-normal indicators for it. I think I might have been a bit indiscreet.”

“Why do you think that, Flori?” The caretaker downs her fruit-water. “Somebody offered me money for something that I have from my father. He…dabbled in forbidden arts on my world. He came into possession of something very valuable. Something that I was able to claim after Ahsoka freed us.”

Nola is quiet as she takes this in. “When I refused, that is when the feelings started. The feelings that I was being followed.”

The young woman’s eyes tear. “Please, Nola. I don’t want to jeopardize the Royal Family. I love Leia and her parents. I want to be able to keep taking care of her.” Her voice catches in a sob.

Nola takes her hands in hers. “Don’t worry, sweetie. You did the right thing. I think that we may need to keep you in the Palace or at the mountain house. But first,” she says with a grin. “I want to try to see who is so interested in you.”

Nola leaves some credits on the table. She takes Flori’s hand in her left and draws her to her. Flori is caught by surprise as Nola kisses her.

For several moments.

As their lips play over each other, Nola’s dark eyes search the crowd. She sees a signal from the first observer, who maintains the look far longer than those who were merely interested in the sight of the two women kissing.

A signal to another across the square. One that Nola doesn’t have the angle to see. She breaks free from Flori and touches her cheek. “Come on, darling. Your virtue is safe. Just had to snap a few holos.”

She notices that the young Zeltron is breathing heavy. “What if I don’t want it to be safe?” she whispers.

 _Still got it, No-no_ , the Naboo thinks with a grin.

Behind her, as they turn, she notices another familiar face seated at another outdoor cafe. She smirks. _Getting kind of crowded._

Dav Kolan downs his own drink, throws down cash and rises. As he does, a man of medium height and an eyepatch over his right eye walks up to him. “Hello, Trigger,” Gregar Typho says. “The Queen would like to know why you are following one of her staff around.”

Kolan’s expression is unreadable. He shakes his head. “Sorry, dear. Need-to-know. Now you and your yokels get out of my goddamned way, before I start shooting.”

“Might hurt, Agent Kolan. Plus I am pretty sure that a certain Corellian might want to have a talk with you if you do start breaking bad.”

“Oh, really? Tell Inspector Covenant that he still owes me dinner and dessert. Otherwise, he can make an appointment, just like everyone else.”

With that, he turns and pushes past the security minder.

~=~=~=~=~=

The young woman turns away from the sudden influx of blasters and institutional clothing. She glances over her shoulder every minute or so. As she turns to an ally, a firm hand grabs her. A pair of hard brown eyes look into her. “Wow, dear, do you think that you could be in more obvious a tail? That tall woman had you made from the get-go.”

The first observer gives her own hard look as she shakes her arm free. “If you want someone who knows more about tailing someone, maybe you should pay better. You and your mysterious benefactor. I prefer the more direct approach of a blaster to the head.”

The young woman known as Aphra looks at her companion. Her eyes soften. She touches the other girl’s cheek. “No matter, sweetie. I think we know how we can get the item." She takes her partner’s hand and turns towards the University sector. “Got some contacts here that can give us some legitimacy to get to her.”

Sana Starros accepts the other teenager’s hand in hers and follows her. Her eyes are troubled as they walk.

~=~=~=~=~=

Bryne Covenant sits on the uncomfortable couch in the outer office of the Procurator-Fiscal and External of the Five Brothers. His expression is dark as he thinks of what he faces when the red light goes off over the door and he is summoned to a Dragon’s lair.

“You know, sweetie, you could get that stormy expression off of your face before you go face the music,” the OW-90 administrator droid says. For about the umpteenth time since he had rejoined the fight, he marvels at the expressiveness and language of the automated majordomo to his uncle’s inner sanctum.

Or the droid’s skill in putting the Dragon in his place when he needed it. Not to mention any of the Dragon’s relations or minions.

He smiles. _Except for Dani. Dani can do no wrong._

“Don’t have an expression, Niner,” he says in reply. “Just the same dumb look I always do.”

“No, sweetie. This one is even dumber than usual. It says that you are going to defy your uncle.”

“Haven’t decided yet, dear. May surprise you how smart I am.”

The red light goes off above the door. Niner’s photoreceptors flash in the droid equivalent of a nod. Covenant rises and walks through the opening door.

Draq’ Bel Iblis sits in an easy chair near the fireplace. He rises and eyes his nephew expectantly.

“So did you enjoy your little vacation?” He walks over to his desk and opens a drawer. The  
Dragon tosses a comm to him. “Next time you go off the grid again, you better not come back.”

His piercing blue eyes soften. “How is Ahsoka?” he asks quietly.

“She is fine, Uncle. Healed and ready to take on the galaxy.”

“Probably better than you are, sport,” comes the reptilian rejoinder. “So, have you given any more thought to what you are going to do when you grow up? Specifically when you celebrate surviving for three decades?”

“Nope. Not a goddamned brain cell.”

Draq’s eyes grow fierce. “You might want to. Especially since your Force hoodoo seems to have all the reliability of a Kuat hyperdrive.”

“Gee, thanks, Dragon. Where is the man who said that he chose me whether I was a Jedi or not?”

“He is facing pressure to find an alternative if you flake out on your responsibilities,” Draq’ replies after calming.

“Not my problem, Draq’. You said that it was my decision.”

For the first time since he has known him, since just before the galaxy-wide conflagration known as the Separatist War by some, Draq’ looks old and worn out.

Bryne sits. “I am sorry Uncle. I just found someone who I thought had died, along with everyone else I ever loved. Along with the closest thing I had to family for most of my life. You are asking me give her up again.”

Draq’ is silent, his eyes tracking downward. “I need time,” Covenant says. “Time to figure out if I can truly sacrifice my own happiness for Corellia. A world that cast me off as much as Mandalore did.”

Draq’s eyes come back to life. “That is where you are wrong, Jame,” he says quietly. “We sent you to the Jedi for your own protection. Protection from those who were serving their own interests rather than yours. Or Corellia’s.”

Draq’ touches Bryne's cheek. “I have a job for you. To take your mind off of it.”

Bryne raises his eyebrows, but says nothing. “Nola has asked for help with a problem that you have unique insight in to.”

The Covenant’s eyes widen. “Dav Kolan is sticking his nose into something on Alderaan. Maybe you can use your charm to turn him into an asset.”

Bryne closes his eyes. _How come I think that Runt and Nola have something cooked up for me? Something that is going to cost me a certain bet._

_How much charm are they expecting?_


	7. Fashion Statements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahsoka explores a world of light for the first time. She manages not to lose the bet the first day, at least. A parentage is revealed.

Ahsoka Tano gazes out of the port of the main lounge of the ship at the beautiful world and its people. She takes a deep breath, breathing in the spicy, undefinable scent of the air from the open. During an earlier scouting walk from the ship, a feeling other than the lust had assailed her since she had come aboard the _Draq’stone_ had cut through her emotions.

Pure unadulterated joy. She smiles as she remembers trying not to stare at the beautiful, ageless people of this world, as they went about their daily business. A daily business tempered by expectations of a month-long celebration of life and light.

_Living life to the fullest,_ as she had been told. She knew that her lekku had transitioned to many different shades of blue in her striping as she watched couples and more steal away into secluded alcoves and parks that seemed to be made for stealing away.

A handsome Zeltron had come up to her from one of the many street-festivals and dances that they had passed. He had broken away from his dance-partner, another male of matching beauty and physique and walked up to her. She had steeled herself, preparing to protest when he had merely placed his hand on her cheek, careful of any more intimate touches.

“Would you like to join our dance ring?” he had asked. She looks at Dani, who is trying not to laugh.

Her companion comes to her rescue. “Not now, dear. We are working. Give me your comm-code and maybe we’ll rock you and your partner’s world tonight.” She looks at Ahsoka. “Or at least one of us will.” He nods and pulls the ex-Jedi into a warm embrace. “Live the light, beautiful,” he whispers.

Ahsoka tries to slow her breathing down as he walks back to his ring. “What the hell is going on, Dani? Why aren’t these people working?” she asks.

“We’re here at a great time. The Festival of the Chalice of Omri. Happens once every five years or so for a month. Besides,” she says with a sly look, “It is lunchtime.”

“What does it celebrate? Rampant horniness?”

Dani smiles. “A little. It celebrates life, Ahsoka. It celebrates the light that keeps us going, both inner and outer. It is a fertility festival as well. It is said that a child conceived during this time will be exceptionally happy and powerful in their resonance.” Her eyes grow thoughtful as she looks away from the huntress. “I was conceived during one,” she says quietly.

Ahsoka touches her arm and smiles. “I think you are the happiest person I know, Daaineran. In spite of how dangerous you are,” she says, her smile morphing into the Smirk.

Dani laughs, the pain on her face passing. “That might be the Corellian side.”

Ahsoka’s eyes widen at this. Something clicks in her mind. A recognition of a familiar look on the features of the beautiful young woman.

Dani notices. She nods slightly. “Yes, dear. The Dragon is my father.”

Ahsoka moves her hand to the officer’s cheek. “I should’ve known. You have his look.” She Smirks again. “Much softened and made more beautiful.”

Dani laughs. “Yeah. Fortunately.” She sobers. “Just so you know, I don’t think that he knows that I know.”

“Does Bryne?”

“Yes. He found out a little before you and he…..” She smiles. “He knows that we are cousins, by marriage, at least,” in answer to an unasked question. Ahsoka nods as the two women continue their walk.

In the present, Ahsoka Tano smiles as she gazes out at a beautiful, life-filled world and their people from the viewport of the main lounge.

The door opens behind her. She turns and is suddenly trying to pick her jaw off of the deck.

Dani Faygan, the daughter of a Dragon and of two worlds, stands there. She is clad in a long, diaphanous skirt that shows off her legs to her world through a discreet split. Ahsoka catches a glimpse of other hidden places.

Her eyes track upwards. She realizes that the skirt is the only thing that the young woman wears, other than jewelry and a pair of sandals. Ahsoka looks away. She remembers that this is what most of the female celebrants had been wearing on the streets, if they weren’t dressed in a revealing version of business attire.

The young ex-Jedi forces her eyes back to Dani, being careful to keep her eyes on the purple orbs in her face.

She fails. Dani walks over to one of the beds and picks up a matching swatch of cloth. She drapes it over her left shoulder and crosses it over her torso.

Her right breast remains bare to the light. “You’re wearing that?” comes in stereo as both young women point at one another. Ahsoka looks down at her vest and fatigue trousers, her standard wear these days. She tracks back up to Dani’s laughing eyes. Her eyebrow marking raises as she realizes a jewel has found a home in the CorSec officer’s navel.

“This is standard festival-wear for females,” comes the matter-of-fact reply to the eyebrow. Dani’s smile grows. “You should probably wear the same thing.” Her eyes track down to Ahsoka’s chest. “You don’t have anything to hide, there, girl,” she says, pointing. “Besides, I thought that Togruta modesty taboos were almost as non-existent as ours is.”

Ahsoka closes her eyes and shakes her head. “Yeah. I don’t have any problems showing ‘em off. Just that I am working.” She grins. “Don’t want to draw attention to myself.”

“Humble, much?” Dani laughs. Their shared laughter cuts through the air. “You might be drawing attention to yourself dressed like that. I thought Togruta used whatever camouflage they can to hunt?”

Ahsoka sobers as she remembers what she is here for. She tries to slow her heart rate. She shakes her head. “I need some air. I’ll be back.” She spins on her heel and walks out of the room.

Behind her, her companion smiles broadly as she thinks of the reaction. _I better get the leftovers from this bet, my lad,_ she thinks, _for all that I am working it for you._

She thinks of a greater conspiracy agreed to by herself and three women on Alderaan. Three women including a fixer and a diner owner, as well as a sovereign Queen of a beautiful world.

A conspiracy for both of their idiots’ sakes.

~=~=~=~=~=

Dani Faygan walks up to a plain wooden door on a small building. Her heart races as she realizes that her feet have taken her after nearly twenty years of being away. Her mind flies back to the last day. The tears. The anger as she is turned over to a stranger. A stranger with kind eyes, but one not of her people.

Of learning from the owner of this house that she was of his people as well. That her absent father had made this move to protect her from his enemies.

To protect her after her mother had abandoned her. Not died as she had been told. She had found out the truth only a few weeks later, when she had gone snooping and discovered that the woman that she had trusted had no death certificate.

She smiles gently. An apparent gift from both of her parents. An engineer’s mind, coupled with a thin veneer of a gambler and a cop’s sense. As well as a canny businessman’s innate stubbornness and determination.

She had been seated on a interplanetary shuttle when her older cousin and her uncle had found her. Her uncle had been laughing as her twelve-year old self had been taken from the transport.

With no small amount of kicking and punching.

Dani shakes her head from the memories - sending them away. She steels herself as she gently presses a different-colored panel near the door, sending a muffled striker to a hidden gong.

Before she can move her hand away, the door opens. Her heart seizes as she looks at the crimson visage of the woman standing there.

Her eyes tear as she looks at her cousin. A cousin whose name recalls the woman’s beloved aunt and namesake.

Neither woman can speak or move, as amber locks onto purple. Both sets of eyes transition to the obsidian of raw emotion.

Many emotions. Anxiety, pain, anger.

_Love._

Dani stands on the doorstep. Both women’s resonances scan through the conflicting emotions, before locking on the final one, with swelling warmth.

Family.

“You haven’t grown much, Snork,” Alyysina Faygan’ii says. “Except outward,” she says dryly, looking at her cousin’s chest.

“Yeah, well. Somebody of this generation needed to uphold the family look, Doof,” Dani replies, her voice just as dry. They both stand fidgeting, not knowing what to do.

Sina reaches out, but stops. Dani can see the struggle in her kinswoman’s eyes.

The pain mirrors her own. The regret. She pushes up to Sina. Her arms encircle her cousin. Their foreheads touch, as their hands move up to each other’s faces.

“I’ve missed you, sweetie.” Dani says. “So much,” she breathes.

Sina kisses her cousin gently. “Me too, Snork. It’s been too long. There was no need for you to stay away for so long.”

Passersby walking to various festival events are treated to the power of the two joined resonances, as the two young women tighten their embrace.

They are treated to the power.

Of the love of family.

~=~=~=~=~=

Dani sits on the couch, her head resting on the shoulder of her slightly taller cousin. They both use Dani's shawl to wipe the tears away.

Sina speaks first. “I know you think that I had something to do with your mother leaving, but I really didn’t, love,” she says.

Dani reaches over and kisses her on the cheek. “I know. I know it was her decision. I was just a stupid kid. I said things that I didn’t mean. Or even didn’t think about how it might hurt you.”

They sit against each other in silence, merely existing in their joy at seeing one another. Dani shakes her head. “So why am I here, cuz?” she asks. “What do you need help with?”

Sina is silent as she hands a shot glass of green liquid to Dani. They touch the glasses, then raise them to each other, as well as turning and raising them to the Absent Ones. They down the glasses of the thick liquor.

Dani grimaces at the raw taste of the shot. She touches the amber jewel on the golden chain around her waist. The greeting-spirit is a distilled version of another type of the amber with the tooth imbedded in it. An amber from the most sacred of the spirit-trees.

The green. Symbolic of welcome.

Sina takes her glass and sets it down. Dani can see that she is gathering her thoughts. Sina finally speaks. “We have been able to keep under the sensors of the Empire. They have not been willing to push us too hard. There are too many bigwigs who like coming here to relax.”

She pours some water from a pitcher. She takes a sip. “But we have had some…incidents lately. Mostly caused by some who want to stir the poodoo. Offworlders who haven’t been here in years. Who don’t know what it is like here…”

“Oh, yeah. We don’t know what it is like to live in luxury, sucking at the Imperial tit.”

Sina’s eyes flash at the deep voice. She stands and turns to the newcomer.

A young Zeltron male stands in the door. “No, actually, I was going to say those who don’t know a goddamned thing about their culture,” Sina says, “About what it means to maintain balance, even when trying to fight the darkness.”

“To roll over and show your asses, you mean.”

“That’s funny. I see someone showing that he is nothing but ass.”

The male whirls at the other voice. He smiles. “Oh, so you must be the ‘expert,’ come to save us all and solve our problems.”

“Sounds like someone needs to.” Her eyes are steady, without a transition to anger. “You must be Tori Laken.”

“Oh, so my reputation precedes me,” he says, smugly.

“No. Not really. I know your sister.”

His eyes widen, then grow still. “So I guess she is happy living it up while others fight.”

Dani’s eyes move to the black. She allows her fury to be heard in her usually warm voice. “Really? From what I can tell you are too busy getting thrown out of whatever cells you fight with. It takes a special kind of idiot to get rejected by Cham Syndulla.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“Someone who you owe a lot, including your freedom, told me.”

His face twists into a sneer. “Oh, so you are one of the Togruta’s lapdogs. That explains a lot. So tell me. Who is going to die in this room because of her incompetence? You? Or Councilor Faygan’ii, here?”

“You don’t know what you are talking about,” Dani warns, moving closer to him.

“Well, were you on Christophsis when my brother died? When she abandoned us to go off with her clone?”

“From what she and Flori told me, she went to make sure that all of you got off. Including your worthless ass.”

She notices that her cousin has moved to the small bar. _Sure hope there is Whyren’s there.  
_

“The Togruta killed my brother, just as sure as if she fired that cannon that ended him.”

“As far as I am concerned, she is a murderer and a coward.”

Dani’s hand lances with pain as she feels his jaw rock back from her right cross. He falls like a sack of flour. She shakes her hand in pain. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Sina down a large tumbler, then pour another.

_Found the Whyren’s._

Her cousin slides a bucket of ice down the bar to her.

~=~=~=~=~=

Ahsoka realizes she has walked a fair distance from the small house in her reverie. She rolls her eyes. _Keep it together, Tano. Get your head out of your ass. There really isn’t room in there for your lekku and montrals._

She does notice passersby looking at her as she walks. _When they can be torn away from other activities._

Not looking at her differences, merely her workmanlike attire.

_Maybe Dani was right. I am not exactly blending in._ She realizes that she has stopped near a clothing establishment. She looks at the flowing, light clothing, gauging whether she can move in the skirt if she needs to. She realizes that a Zeltron male is looking at her, a grin on his face, as well as that of the female standing next to him. They both walk over to her, warmth rushing over her from their gift.

“Hello there. You look lost.” the man says

She smiles. “Not exactly. I know where I am now.”

A smirk flows over both of their features. “We ain’t talking about location, sweetie,” the woman says. She touches the huntress’s face.

Ahsoka is about to politely rebuff them, when the woman gently whispers. “Just need to look like you belong a bit, dear.” She moves her hands to Ahsoka’s throat. Her eyes widen as the woman unfastens her top and pulls the closure down.

To her waist. Her mind tracks back several years as a Pantoran pirate helps her dress for an infiltration in the same manner.

The woman pats her cheek. “That should do, dear. You shouldn’t hide what the _Omri_ gave you.”

Ahsoka realizes her heart is beating a lot faster, even faster than standard Togruta-speed.

Her partner reaches over and kisses the young ex-Jedi. “If you get a chance, dear, look us up. We are always looking for an opportunity to embarrass our grandchildren in public.” At that they turn away, leaving Ahsoka Tano standing dumbstruck in the street.

_Both of them looked only a little older than Dani._

She closes her eyes to center herself. She Smirks as a Windu voice comes to her mind. _Do you really think that the Force should be used to keep from losing an ill-advised bet, Padawan Tano?_

_You have no idea, Mace,_ thinking of meditating certain thoughts away after being around a beautiful Mirialan Padawan of her past.

She sighs and starts to walk into the establishment. She hears another voice in her mind. A warm, familiar voice with a drawling Corellian inflection. _Good choice, Runt. I can taste that fine nerf-steak now. I will be savoring it after you go and boink grandma and grandpa._

Ahsoka stops. _I can’t believe my mind sounds like someone who uses the word ‘boink’ to describe that act._

_Can’t you hear it, Runt? It’s in the air. Boink, boink, boink…._

Ahsoka turns and walks away from the clothing store. She looks down at herself, where the couple had tried to help her ‘blend in.’

She raises the zipper of the top back to her throat.

As she starts her walk again, she thinks about the owner of her current inner voice. She tries to keep the grin from her face as she does.

Doubts cause the expression to recede. Doubts about whether they should fight together, even though both of them have proven to the other that they fight as equals, willing to protect each other, without compromising their independence.

_All well and good in theory_. But the feelings that her hunt-brother engenders in her casts even more doubts in her. Doubts that he or she would be able to let go, as the Jedi termed it, for the larger good.

She turns into an alley and leans against a wall, closing her eyes. They had both agreed that they would not worry about Jedi strictures, that those had caused enough problems in the past few years.

She shakes her head of the thoughts. Thoughts of problems that she had felt that they had solved.

_Maybe we just put them off._

She lets her mind wander to the bet. A smile flows again as she thinks of the here and now. Her smile grows mischievous as she thinks of allies. She pulls her comm and sends a text. A text to a young woman who might be willing to be hers.

On the other end of the text, a young diner-owner grins at the text. _Wondered when I would hear from you, my girl,_ Meglann Florlin thinks. _Guess I am up._

~=~=~=~=~=

Dani Faygan sips her own whiskey as she watches the sunset painting pink across the skies. Behind her, she hears her cousin walk out into the inner courtyard of the house, now changed into her own festival garb. Dani smiles as she feels her cousin’s arms encircle her middle, her chin resting on her shoulder.

She feels a gasp as Sina sees the angry scar bisecting her back. She feels her cousin bend down and rest her forehead at the apex of the mark of the lightsaber.

After several moments, Sina lifts her head and kisses the scar. She moves back to where her head can rest on the point of Dani’s shoulder. “So good to see you, love,” she says. “I’ve missed you. You have grown so much. Been through so much. I am only sorry that I missed it.”

Dani turns and smiles, gives her a quick kiss. “I am only sorry that it is under these circumstances.” Her eyes twinkle for a second as she think of the Laken brother slinking off after a judicial application of a glass of water to his face. His eyes staring daggers at the two women as he clutches his jaw.

She notices Sina watching her. She knows that her cousin can feel the laughter through the resonance. She can probably also feel the younger woman sober. Dani watches her plaster a light smile on her face. “Come on, girl. Let’s go dance. Maybe we’ll find someone to share.” Her eyes take on a hooded look. “Would love to see how much you’ve really grown.”

Dani is about to say something when a slight roaring cuts through the beautiful night. She looks up, her face growing still. Sina’s eyes widen at the expression in the now-black eyes.

Sina turns to where the obsidian eyes are locked in the sky. Several dozen shapes grow in the dimming sun. Shapes with a winged-triangular, menacing air about them.

“What are they, Dani?” her cousin asks.

The officer purses her lips before replying. She breathes out. “ _Sentinel-_ class assault shuttles. About a battalion’s worth.” She sees her cousin’s confusion.

“Probably Imperial stormtroopers.”


	8. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Covenant tries to fathom what the hell makes an ISB agent tick.
> 
> Ahsoka doesn't care what makes a Zeltron rebel tick.

The light blossoms in the mind of the Imperial as he moves gently in his lover. Their cries mingle in the morning as they build to their finish.

Dav Kolan feels his lover’s own orgasm recede as he moves his hand from his center. Dek Antilles, a man with no name in the galaxy, collapses on the bed. Dav lies full length on him, still connected.

The ISB agent busies himself kissing gently along the shoulders of the young scientist. Dek turns until they lie on their sides. Their mouths meld as they help each other catch their breaths. Kolan runs his fingers through the unfamiliar beard on the fugitive’s face.

_No. Not really a fugitive. Someone who is dead to the universe can’t be a fugitive._

Dek smiles and lifts his hands to the furrowed brow, smoothing the wrinkles. “Don’t look so serious, love,” he says. “I just rocked your world. Can’t be all bad.”

Dav kisses him with a smirk on his face. “Someone has a high opinion of themselves. I was only moderately entertained.”

There is a snicker from his lover. “Yeah. Sounded like it. Who knew the big bad pilot was a screamer?”

He is careful not to mention his lover’s other occupation. Kolan smiles gently after their laughter subsides. “Don’t know if I like this, too much, nerd,” as he continues to stroke the facial hair.

“It’s my revenge for the times that your ugly-ass copstache has tickled my…”

There is another paroxysm of laughter as Kolan finds a spot near that area.

Dek sees his lover’s eyes grow pained. “Hey. You okay, zoomie?”

Dav shakes his head. “I am now, nerd.” Dek's expression sobers. “I know, Dav. I know.” He kisses the ex-pilot, his fingers finding the angry scar in his hairline. “I only have a little bit before I have to go. I have already spent too much time on the Mother.” His eyes grow sad at the thought of leaving his world.

He looks up. “Come with me, Dav. You have done your bit. Your Republic service…..”

He quiets as Kolan puts his fingers over his lips. “Can’t. I can’t.” he whispers. He replaces the fingers with his lips.

They rest for several moments. The scientist cups the agent’s cheek. “Hey. How about a little more use of your mustache. Everything else can wait.”

As his mouth closes on the Alderaani, Dav’s eyes are troubled as they try to see the future.

~=~=~=~=~=

Dav Kolan adjusts his flight jacket as he leaves the small room. He is sure that any observer would see the self-satisfied look over his usual sardonic expression. He makes his way down the street after exiting the building.

Several observers are not interested in his expression. Several large humans in expensive suits begin to fall into step behind him, at a safe distance.

The distance may not be enough for them, as a sly smile plays over his features. The smile grows as another, smaller human steps out from the alley in front of him.

“Well, well, well. Look like the Antols are over the mourning period for Skon and Jed. Or is it just the mourning period for the shitty restaurant in Theed that didn’t make any money?”

The rat-like human doesn’t rise. “Some people want you to lay off whatever the hell it is you are looking into, scumbag.”

_Scumbag_?

“Do you really want to mess with ISB, loth-rat?” he asks. His hand starts to move under his jacket.

“Who the hell do you think wants you to stop poking around, asshole?”

Kolan says nothing as his hand continues to move to his weapon.

Two of the behemoths rush him, weapons drawn. They are already falling before they take two steps.

Another blaster in his weak hand smokes. The other three stop their advance for a second as he covers them and draws his primary weapon.

But only for a second as they spread out. The loth-rat smiles. “Don’t think you can take us all, Agent,” he says.

Kolan points his blasters at the rodent. “Yeah, but I can take you, darling,” he says.

“Get him!” the leader yells, as he crabs sideways. The three remaining thugs raise their blasters.

The one furthest from Kolan crumples, a blaster shot in his chest. A very large blaster shot.

Dav doesn’t turn to see where the shot came from, but places his next two shots carefully in the head of one of the two remaining thugs.

The last thug, the largest, swarms at the Imperial, tackling him around the middle. Dav manages to hold on to one blaster, but the other is forced from his hand. His empty hand, swings at the thug’s ear repeatedly. The attacker staggers, but begins to squeeze Kolan’s torso.

Kolan’s vision starts to immediately blur around the edges. He struggles to bring the remaining blaster around, but the thug has managed to latch on to his wrist. The blaster slowly begins to turn away from the thug and towards the agent’s head.

Kolan sees the muzzle inexorably inch to his forehead. He fights the movement with all of his remaining strength.

The remaining light in his vision is nearly at a pinprick.

The hand on his wrist and the arms squeezing his chest slackens, as he feels a quick intense burst of heat near his head, with an accompanying searing pain on his forehead. Oxygen returns to his lungs as the thug falls to the ground, pulling Kolan with him.

The Imperial manages to catch himself on his hands and knees. His eyes regain focus on the thug.

A thug who has suddenly sprouted a smoking crater in his forehead. Kolan looks up.

He finds himself looking into a pair of warm green eyes. His mind’s eye sees those same eyes staring into his own with abandon. Eyes that are unfocused as well from the large amount of a powerful alcoholic beverage from a bartender’s private supply on a lush, green world.

Bryne Covenant holsters his DL-44 and extends his hand to help the agent up. Kolan’s center twitches at the touch. “I see that your winning personality has struck again, Trigger,” the Corellian says.

Kolan smirks. “It worked on you, once, King,” he says. He allows his hand to linger on the officer’s.

Covenant matches the smirk. “Still not remembering it, Trigger,” he says. “Really must’ve been a horrible lay.” He looks away. “Either that or Maz’s brown jug must be pretty potent.”

“You didn’t seem to think so at the time, my dear,” Kolan says. “Seem to remember a lot of moaning from you.”

He looks around. Planetary cops are running to the scene. The five thugs all lay in various stages of permanent disrepair. The rat-like spokesman is nowhere to be found.

“You know, Inspector, you could’ve left one of them alive.”

“Well, Dav, I had to make a choice. You or them. Not sure I made the winning choice or not.”

“My dear old mother would think that you did.”

“Wouldn’t think you would have a mother, Trigger. Or if you did you would probably arrest her for crimes against order.”

“Careful, Covenant. That could be viewed as sedition by some.” He falls silent. After a moment he looks up. “So what brings you to Alderaan? You still owe me dinner and dessert.”

“Someone told me that your ass might need saving.”

“Had everything under control, my dear.” Kolan runs his hand over his forehead, draws his fingers back. A small amount of blood marks the touch. His expression darkens as he looks at Covenant. The Corellian shrugs. “Cut it kind of close there, stud,” Kolan says dryly.

“Yeah. But it is your least important organ.”

“Maybe I’ll show you that, soon, handsome.” Kolan replies without missing a beat.

The snark flies back and forth as they wait for the Alderaani cops to actually approach them. Kolan looks at the senior Peacekeeper and flashes his creds. “ISB business. My useless assistant will be here soon to mess everything up. Unless,” he says with a dangerous expression, “she is the one that arranged this little party.”

Covenant’s eyes narrow at the words.

~=~=~=~=~=

Tori Laken looks out at his small cadre. He sighs as the blank looks are his only reward. _Really scraping the bottom of the barrel with these heroes_ , he thinks to himself. He sighs as he thinks of his early successes with Cham’s organization on the Twi’lek homeworld. Cham had accepted him without question after the escape from Christophsis. He had proven himself a skilled fighter and a quick learner.

Cham had assigned him to Gobi to, in the General’s words, ‘to learn from the best.’

That had been his downfall. The plodding veteran had soon gotten under his skin, with his methodical caution.

Tori had soon run afoul of Cham by going against Gobi’s orders. The general had very nearly cast him out then, but Isval, his chief lieutenant and confidant, had intervened.

It had probably helped his cause that on the way back from Christophsis, he and Isval, who had been rescued from the Imperial slaver on the crystal world, had reached an understanding.

An understanding fostered by his people’s ways and gift.

Tori clinches his teeth. A botched raid, which had nearly resulted in the death of Cham’s adolescent pet Numa, had been the last straw. Cham had looked up from the sleeping girl and her bandages and had told him to be off of his world within the hour.

He had looked at Isval. She had studiously ignored him in his humiliation.

He shakes his head, his anger growing. One of the Twi’leks who had accompanied him to his own world, is looking at him with wide eyes. He calms as he thinks of how Isval had pushed him to carry out the attack that had resulted in the young girl’s injury.

He brings himself fully back to the present. “I think that we can attack the assault ships after they have deployed their troops. The stormies will be out and about, carrying out their oppression of my people.”

He inwardly smirks. The mixture of Twi’leks and Zeltrons are hanging on his every word.

“Yeah, they won’t leave any guards on the ships. They are accommodating like that.”

His eyes widen at the familiar voice. A clear, young voice with just a hint of snark, leavened with the experience of nearly a decade of battle, including four years in the current struggle. _Four years of hiding and cowardice, of letting others fight for her,_  he corrects himself.

The Twi’leks turn to the voice. A voice emanating from a hood and cowl masking the face and montrals of a tall figure. A tall figure whose blue eyes are cutting into him, as surely as her dry voice is.

His anger grows through his resonance. He fights to regain the attention of his cadre. “That sounds like you, Fulcrum. Let’s be cautious and bend over for the Empire. Let them trample my people under their boots.”

“Really?” she says. “You are going to go there with me? The only reason that there is a destroyer above us and probably an entire Legion, is because you couldn’t let well enough alone. You had to start breaking things. Tearing them down.”

“Better than rolling over. Like you have.”

Her calm slips. “Where the hell does this come from, Tori? Is your grief and hatred for me so much that you would sacrifice your world? Hate me all that you want to, but don’t make others pay for what you think that I did.” She looks down. Her voice falls to a whisper. “You don’t think that I don’t remember your brother’s death every day of my life? That I don’t think about what I could’ve done differently? Because you are wrong. I have thought about it.” She looks up, her eyes staring at him. “I couldn’t do anything other than leave you while Wolffe and I fought the armor. I had to get you all out of there.”

“Yeah. But you left one behind. My brother.”

Tori sees that the Twi’leks are watching the byplay. He realizes that he might actually be losing them.

His thoughts are interrupted by a loud explosion at the outer door of the building and a cry. He stares accusingly at Tano. “You led them here. You traitor.”

She shakes her head. “No. All they had to do was what I did. Look for a bunch of Twi’leks and n’er-do-wells from this world congregating and they would have the whole insurgency. Didn’t your girlfriend Isval teach you anything about operational security?’ His eyes flash at mention of Isval. “You have no right….”

Ahsoka rolls her eyes. “Oh, shut up.” She looks at the others. “Scatter. Get out of the windows and get the hell out of here.”

Tori turns to go. He feels a steel grip on his arm. “Not you, useless. You’re coming with me. We are going to cover your people as they get away.” He feels himself yanked behind her.

~=~=~=~=~=

“So what are you doing here, King?” Kolan asks as they walk from the scene of mayhem. “Oh, just thought that I needed a dose of pacifism in my life.” He avoids Kolan’s look.

‘Wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that a certain fixer and I had a run-in, now would it?” Kolan asks.

“Maybe. Pretty sure that a certain fixer could handle the likes of you with one hand tied behind her back,” the Corellian finishes.

Kolan nods. “Probably no argument there. She might need both hands for me, but I am sure she could handle Horan.”

“Your mythical mother could handle her.”

“So why were you following Nola?” Covenant asks.

Kolan stops. “Why, King? Are you going to beat me up?” he challenges.

Covenant’s expression doesn’t change. “Maybe. If we were ten. I may just break a few bones. Maybe bruise certain parts of you again, like I did a couple of months ago on Naboo.”

Kolan’s eyes grow hard. “I might have my hands on your balls before this is over, Covenant.”

“Promises, promises.” He pauses, as if weighing something. “Look, if it is something that is not going to harm this world or mine, or any that I care for, maybe I can help you. I am, actually, a cop.”

“Really? I thought you were Draq’s court jester,” the Lothali says.

“Nope. That job is already taken.” He waits expectantly, his eyes on the ISB agent.

Kolan grimaces, then leads him to a bench in one of the dozens of tiny green spaces that dot the capital city. To an outside observer, the pair could be a couple of spacers discussing their latest cargo, rather than something that could end with either of them dead at the other’s hands.

That same outside observer could possibly deduce a different outcome as the taller of the two draws his leg closer to the gray-haired one. Covenant looks at Kolan, the look unfathomable on his face. After a moment, the ex-pilot puts a centimeter extra between them.

Covenant smirks. Kolan matches it as he takes a deep breath. “Can’t tell you much. Internal investigation. But I wasn’t following the Hand. The young woman who was with her, Flori Laken might be related to the case. A family connection.”

Bryne's eyes appear to digest this. “I never knew her last name,” he muses absently.

If Kolan had been more familiar with his expressions, he would be able to tell that the Corellian recognizes the unknown family name.

Covenant more than recoganizes it. A name from his past. From a past that was dead. For an instant, he has an image of a Zeltron male, a demented look in his eyes, a forbidden device embedded into his forehead. Directing a clone trooper to break his Master’s love’s arm as she struggled to put a stop to Dain Laken’s arcane and forbidden experiments.

He shakes his head and comes back to the present. The memory fades. A memory that took place on the capital world of the Separatist enemy.

“So what is the connection?” he asks Kolan.

“Her father did some rather, uh, forbidden experimentation in his research, into something called the Benders,” Kolan answers. “It is quite possible that the subject of my investigation might be trying to use it against Imperial interests.”

_More power to them_ , Covenant knows his expression of distaste is clear to the ISB agent.

Kolan nods.  “Don’t think that this might be better than the Empire. The little bit of knowledge that I have gleaned tells me that I don’t think you want this type of power in the hands of a man like my newest project.” Covenant turns from him, silent for a moment.

_Yeah. So much better than a possible Sith Lord and a corrupt politician,_ the ex-Jedi thinks. The thought makes him recall something from that past sojurn on Raxus.

The fact that Dain Laken had been a wild Force-sensitive, in addition to being a powerful empath studying a forbidden art. A powerful empath that had nearly ripped a loved one’s mind apart, but had only incapacitated her. Kolan allows him his thoughts. 

Kolan sees the expression and thoughts playing over the Corellian’s face. A face that is usually expressionless to him. Especially when trying to glean a secret from it. A secret that seems to be just out of reach.

Even when the face had been close to his.

They sit in silence as they dance around secrets.

~=~=~=~=~=

Ahsoka Tano skids around the corner, her Zeltron problem in tow. She had seen that the others of Laken’s little band had been able to scatter.

There were enough stormtroopers to pursue them all. She shakes her head as she thinks about her own problems.

Namely, six Imperial troopers following her and the main problem. True to form, Tori Laken unlimbers his purloined Imperial blaster and turns to fire.

She snatches the weapon out of his hand and calls on the Force. The blaster snaps in half. His eyes widen as she continues to drag him through the narrowing streets.

She flips around. “Don’t do anything else. Just sit back and enjoy the ride, asshole. Maybe we will survive this.”

She makes another move, a move so fast that Tori doesn’t quite make it with her. He doesn’t see the Smirk on her features as he slams into the wall, as she sprints down a side alley.

The expression fades as she skids to a stop at what faces her.

A stormtrooper officer stands in front of her. Her eyes widen at the two DC-17s in his hands. Weapons from her past.

Weapons that are identical to the two under her arms. She reaches out with the Force. A quick scan of him confirms her suspicions.

The trooper’s signature exudes familiarity. Not just that of a brother, but one that she knows.

Her hands move to her own blasters, eschewing the sabers hidden in her jacket.

Ahsoka’s head lights with pain. Pain from the back of her head and her center lek. Through the lightbursts, her mind goes foggy.

The young ex-Jedi realizes that she is on her knees. She fights to rise.

Another blow connects. She slumps back to her knees. Through her fog, she senses her ‘ally’ running away.

The clone officer walks over to her, the twin blasters aimed at her head.

She closes her eyes.

 


	9. Breakfast Items

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pain of brothers and heart bonds as the Imperial grip tightens on Zeltros. Elsewhere, Meglann follows instructions.

Bly advances on the rebel. His eyebrows raise as he sees the the tall hood and cowl. There is something familiar. He sees the figure shake her head from the blows administered by her so-called ally. Bly continues to her, his heart hardening.

He flies backward as he feels a strong hand close on his foot, flipping him up. He feels an even stronger, jaw-jarring blow against his bucket. The rebel doesn’t even flinch, but leaps up, stepping on his chest, running towards the wall. He sees her leap over his head. He jumps up and shoves his shoulder into her back, sending her to the ground. He lifts the blaster and tries to fire into her back.

The blaster doesn’t fire.

He lifts the one in his right hand, thumbing it to ‘stun.’ He fires it directly into her back. She spasms, but shakes her head again. He fires again into her back.

She slumps. He climbs up.

His head lights up with pain as a boot connects with his groin. Just at the junction of the armor plates. He drops both blasters, clutching himself through the armor.

He lashes out with his hand. The woman kicks away, as his hand closes on her hood. His eyes widen as his hand closes on a thick appendage on the back of her head. He involuntarily squeezes.

The rebel screams and manages to slip away, as his hand slides down the length of the appendage. His hand grasps the hood and yanks. He sits back in shock as the blue and white lek and montrals are exposed.

The Togruta turns. He slumps as he sees the fiery blue eyes attempting to lock on him.

A face from his past. A face now grown.

The face of a fierce young fighter who protected her master and her troopers with power and growing skill after a crash. A crash on the plains of an unknown world in their brief mission together.

A fighter that he thought had died with the others of her kind nearly five years ago, even though she had been cast out of the proscribed Order.

He sees her hands fly to the inside of her battered leather flight jacket. He drops his blaster. He holds his hands out, palm forward. “No, Commander! Wait!” he says.

She stops, her unfocused eyes growing wide at the voice. He slowly moves his hands to his helmet and disconnects it, lifting. Her eyes narrow as she tries to place his familiar face. Her eyes take in the gray-flecked auburn hair, cropped close to his skull.

“Wait, Commander Tano. I…just want to talk. It’s me….”

“Bly,” she says quietly in her familiar voice. A voice that has matured with time and with the pain of loss.

He smiles at her. “You’ve grown a bit, Commander.” His eyes lock on hers. “Ahsoka,” he whispers.

She doesn’t return his smile. She picks up his remaining, functioning blaster. She manages to focus her eyes and close them.

The blaster snaps in half. She drops the two pieces. As it breaks, he begins to feel the buzzing in his head. The whisper of a litany flows through his thoughts.

He tries to tamp it down as he sees the younger version of the face looking up and taking in every word that his General imparts to her, in her musical accent.

He notices that the older version’s blue eyes don’t take up half of her face, as the younger version’s did.

The older version’s eyes give nothing away. “So what now, Bly? You going to try to kill me?” she asks quietly.

He shakes his head violently. As he does, the litany grows in his mind.

_Good soldiers follow orders._

The pain in his head grows, companion to the deadly litany.

~=~=~=~=~=

Ahsoka watches the trooper’s competing expressions flow over his familiar face. He finally settles on a blank expression, but fear and warmth still compete in his dark eyes.

Eyes that she had come to know as well as her own in the mirror, in the thousands of troopers--her brother--that she had lived and died with.

Bly comes back to himself from wherever he had gone. “What are you doing here, Commander? It is not safe here.”

“Enjoying the Festival. I could ask the same thing of you, Bly, but it seems like to me that the only unsafe aspects of this world are hangovers, having to gently persuade everyone that I am not interested in getting laid, or Imperial troops rampaging through the streets.”

“In our defense, we haven’t started rampaging yet. Just got a tip about your boyfriend there, Commander,” he says dryly. “Why would you visit during a fertility festival if you weren’t interested in getting laid?”

She snorts. “Stop calling me Commander. Haven’t been one in a long time.”

“Not what I heard. Heard you did a pretty good imitation of a General on Mandalore.”

“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

“Commander, I am duty-bound to arrest you. Not just as a Jedi, but as someone who is consorting with known rebels.”

“That may not go well for you, _vod_ ,” she says darkly. “Might leave a mark.”

He closes his eyes. “I don’t want to,” he whispers. “I am trying to keep order here, to have as light a hand as I can, seeing how it is just my battalion, rather than the entire Legion.”

“Doesn’t look like there is much order needed here. Just a people celebrating life,” she says.

“There have been attacks,” Bly says. “Those attacks are in direct opposition to order and peace.”

“So were you trying to keep order and peace when you murdered Aayla?” she asks quietly.

For an instant, she sees the rage and bloodlust rush through his body, through his expression. Ahsoka can see his struggle to maintain it.

“How did you know about that?”

“I saw the holonet when I was running for my life,” she says matter-of-factly. “I saw you standing over her body. She was face down, but I knew it was her.” His eyes shift as she stares. “Never knew a body could take so many blaster shots and still be recognizable.”

“I knew I should’ve confiscated that reporter’s holocam.”

Her own anger surges through her body. “That is all you have to say? You murdered someone who loved you and your brothers as much as anyone. Even broke with her former Master over his treatment of his troops. I saw how she looked at you when we were marooned on that planet. There was so much respect in her eyes for you.”

She stops as she sees something else in his eyes, for an instant.

Before the struggle returns. She sees him tamp the other emotions down. “She was a traitor. Like all Jedi.”

“Like the younglings in the Temple? Those who trusted you implicitly?” She shoves him. “Like me?” He tries to stand his ground, but she shoves him again. She can see his eyes widen in amazement at the strength in the move, even without the Force.

She feels her face grows even hotter. “If it wasn’t for one trooper who resisted, I would be rotting on some Outer Rim shithole, my corpse forgotten, just like Aayla.”

He seizes her hands just as she is about to shove him again. Her eyes flash. The contact, even between gloves and bracers steadies him. “You don’t know anything. I stood over her and nearly put that Deece in my mouth.”

He slumps. “But I couldn’t. In spite of everything, in spite of what we had done, I knew she wouldn’t want that for me.”

Ahsoka stops in her tracks. For an instant, her heart clinches as she sees the emotions again—the struggle on his face. She takes a step back as she realizes what the surplus emotion is. “You loved her, didn’t you?” she says quietly, her voice cracking with her own emotion.

He doesn’t respond immediately. “We knew it was forbidden, at least the _attachment_ part for her.” He spits the word like a curse. “We kind of fell into it.”

He drops her wrists. She takes one of his gauntleted hands in hers, rubs the palm. He looks up and shoves her himself, the conflict once again on his face after the moment of calm. “You need to get out of here, Commander. Run."

She sees his jaw clinch tightly, just before the next words flow.

"I am fighting the same urges that I did that night on Felucia," he manages to get out.

“I can help you, Bly. I have dealt with some _Vode_ before who were able to fight it. Come with me.”

“No! Get out of here. Don’t let me see you again. For your sake!” His voice takes on a pleading quality. “For Aayla’s sake.”

He shoves harder. She regains her footing. She stares at him, seeing his hands fighting to stay clasped on his belt.

She slowly turns and walks away, with no urgency.

_No fear._

As she leaves, he looks down at the broken remnant of his one blaster. A tangible reminder of that night of madness.

He falls to his knees.

_Good soldiers follow orders._

~=~=~=~=~=

Daaineran Faygan gently rebuffs the younger male Zeltron’s interest, with a vague promise. Her cousin’s face is split by a wide grin, as her bare shoulders shake with laughter. Dani rolls her eyes. “What?” she asks.

“I think you have been away from the Home too long, Snork. You’re not feeling the light too much,” Sina remarks. She brushes her hand over Dani’s cheek.

Dani kisses her finger quickly. “No. Just trying to figure out what to do about the bucketheads. Plus where my partner has gotten off to. Afraid that there might be mayhem and destruction.”

“Sounds like a useful sort to have around. Tell me about them. I want every detail,” the older woman says with a mischievous grin.

Dani smiles wistfully. “Not exactly like that, Doof,” she says quietly. “Although it ain’t for lack of trying.”

She closes her eyes, as they sit in a bright cafe. She can feel Sina smile through the resonance at her hesitation. “She is a fighter. A huntress. She is very close to a brother of my heart," Dani finishes.

Sina touches her hand. Dani is certain that she hears the sadness in her voice. “Is this Bel Iblis’s nephew?” Sina asks.

Dani takes a sip of her festival wine. “Yes. We have known each other since before the war.”

Sina's eyes are on her intently as Dani takes a deep breath. “I thought he was dead for about three years. Then he turned up alive. He works now to protect his world from the darkness.”

Dani sees a slight smile flow to Sina's features. “What about the huntress? Your partner here?"

“They grew up together. They each thought the other was dead, up until about three or four months ago.”

Sina’s eyes remain expressionless, but Dani knows that she is thinking about what kind of being could have died at the end of the Separatist War. Especially more than one.

Sina brings her hands to Dani's cheeks. She moves her face to meet Dani's. Their lips meld for a moment, giving Dani time to gather herself.

Sina watches as Dani’s expression grows soft with emotion. “It is a beautiful thing to see them fight and live together.” She looks down and shakes her head.

“Why haven’t you succeeded with her? Didn’t think anyone could resist you, Snork.” She allows her eyes to gleam. “There is no accounting for taste.”

“You name the place, cuz, and I might show you how irresistible I am.”

“Well, the Festival is the right time for those demonstrations, dear,” Sina says. She sees the sadness grow in Dani’s purple eyes again. For the millionth time, she marvels at whatever genetic anomaly had given her cousin those beautiful eyes. Eyes that were common on Zeltros, but not that particular dark, almost royal shade, and not generally in their family.

“Daaineran, why did you not come back for the last festival? You had said you were coming.”

She takes Dani’s hand in hers. Dani is silent, her eyes now closed again, the raw emotions and memories fighting with one another. “I was going to,” she whispers. “I was going to bring my heart-bond.”

Sina nods as several pieces come together in her mind’s eye. “I saw your bond-talisman when you were dressing, Dani,” she says gently. “I saw the tooth in the spirit-resin.” She reaches down and pulls the younger woman’s hands to her lips. “Tell me, if you can.”

She can feel the flinch against her lips. “She…was a Jedi,” Dani whispers. Her eyes lock on Sina’s, as if daring her to say anything. Sina merely waits. “She died, about a month after we took the vows on her world.”

“The tooth. Was she a huntress?”

Dani smiles. “Yes. A powerful one. An elder of the Hunt. She was the love of my life.”

“Is that why you don’t seem to be making headway with your partner? Are you holding back?”

“No!” she exclaims. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Did your heart-bond know what you were? That you sought the light in many places?”

“Yes,” she says in a small voice. “She knew. She had her hunt-sisters and brothers, as well. Those of other clans that she had a bond with, of skill and of the body.” She smiles. “Just like that hunter and huntress of my world, now.”

“Then what is it?”

Her reply is interrupted by the sound of loud boots entering the square. Several Imperial stormtroopers enter the small courtyard cafe, along with a black-uniformed officer.

The officer, a pasty sort with a Commander’s insignia sneers at the patrons. He seems unmoved by the amount of exposed flesh. “Everyone here, produce scandocs. We are looking for insurgents.”

Dani and Sina look at each other. Out of the corner of her eye, Sina sees Dani start. She follows her cousin’s eyes in time to glimpse a movement. A brief glimpse of blue and white and orange is all that she sees, in the shadows of the courtyard.

Dani turns to the officer and puts on her brightest smile. “Of course, General. We are always happy to cooperate with the authorities.”

The officer’s pale eyes narrow. He jerks his head to the troopers. Sina sees Dani holding her breath as two of them move to the shadow where she had glimpsed what Dani had seen.

The two stop as if mesmerized for a moment, then turn and move to another part of the cafe.

The suit gives her and her cousin’s scandocs a cursory glance. He turns and looks around the room. “The Empire will not tolerate the displays of insurrection we have seen. If they continue, there will be consequences. We may forbid any gathering such as this.”

His eyes suddenly flit around the room. His gloved index finger pulls at his tight collar. Sina looks over at Dani. A slight smile is on her face. Sina grins, then hides it as she feels the warmth from her cousin. She nods slightly as she adds her own resonance to the officer.

Dani’s gaze is locked on the Imp’s groin. His fists clench at his belt, as he stops himself from moving them to adjust himself. He paints an approximation of a scowl on his face. “See that you……,” he starts. His voice breaks into a higher register. Dani relaxes as he turns towards the door and exits, his minions trailing behind him.

Dani smirks as the Imperials move out. There are relieved giggles from other patrons. Sina watches her place her forged scandocs back in the clasp of her shawl. 

Sina sees her eyes close, as if in pain and memory just for a moment. She shakes her head. Sina's heart flows to her cousin as she thinks of another who protects her world and her loved ones. _Not just hunters and huntresses._

Sina’s eyes follow hers and widen as she sees the wraith step out into the light for a half-second. For that half-second, she takes in the powerful figure, as well as Dani's expression at seeing her apparent partner safe.

“Nice,” she breathes. “I want one.”

In spite of the pain and relief apparent on her face, Dani grins. “It is a time of sharing, Doof.”

Dani turns away, as she allows her mind to flow to another. A similar face. A face with the violet eyes of a prophesied master huntress.

~=~=~=~=~=

Bryne Covenant’s expression is thunderous as he watches Dav Kolan walk away. Kolan had given him no more information about what he was looking into. He would have to talk to Flori Laken to glean more.

Either that or see if he could stomach using Kolan’s libido against him. _No kriffing in the line of duty_ , he remembers Ahsoka’s words. His heart clinches in shame as he thinks about the images that come unbidden to his mind, in the haze of the liquor from all of those months ago. Shame from scratching an itch with an Imperial. Especially an ISB agent, without trying to get anything in return.

_Maybe I am a walking, talking, Corellian gonad,_ he thinks.

He shakes his head. Covenant smirks as he remembers his master rolling her eyes at his ‘study’ habits with his little clique of Padawans. He stops, his eyes growing wet as he remembers another ghost, one with a ready smile, blue skin and lekku. He turns and rubs his face, as he sees the young Twi’lek lying in a stasis pod, his severed lekku lying next to him, through the training bond with his Master.

His pain grows as memories of Kolan draws out memories of his dead. Of his past loves and comforts; his growth. He puts his forehead against the nearest brick wall, as he thinks of the other Padawans in that clique.

He starts as he realizes that he is in the University District. He smiles. Maybe it is time for some breakfast. _Some bad-for-me diner food will settle my mind._

He turns and walks, leaving thoughts of his mission behind. He tries to think of winning the bet from Ahsoka.

He can only think of seeing her again. Of missing her.

Covenant pushes the door to the light, airy diner open. The small bell hanging askew from the door sounds.

His smile falls as he sees Meglann Florlin at the counter. He brings it back to his face as her eyes lock on his. His eyebrows raise at the unfamiliar predatory expression that flows to her face.

He realizes that she is not dressed in her usual exercise or tank top and trousers. She wears a light dress in white, her tanned shoulders and arms bare.

A great deal of bare skin exposed.

He stops and rubs his face again.

 “Hey, Gravy-man,” she says, her eyes their usual sparkling brown. “Got some new sausage I wanted to try.” Her face morphs into a very familiar expression. One that she had probably learned from a certain huntress of their acquaintance. “Wanna help me with that?’

He stares at her as he walks over to the counter. She pulls a package from below the counter. His eyes close as he recognizes the packaging with the Aurabesh words.

_A product of Shili._

As he always does, he curses a certain vertically-challenged slicer for saddling him with that given name as a legend.

The diminutive version of a Togruti word. A Togruti word that graces the package of sausage in her hands.

“I’ve had plenty of that sausage,” he says, grinning at her, but ignoring the entrendre. “How about some caf?”

She brings the pot up to a cup she has already placed on the counter. As he fixes it, he sees her eyes glancing over him. “Trying to decide between it and Corellian sausage,” she says.

Covenant closes his eyes, as he sees the triumph slipping through his fingers. She lets her hand linger on his on the cup. _Come on, Covenant. You have fought General Grievous to a standstill. You can resist the moves of an Alderaani diner-owner._

Of course, he is running over the rules and parameters of the bet in his mind.

Meglann helps him with that. “You know, I have been wanting to see which is better. Corellian versus Togruta, as far as the sheer enjoyment goes.”

_Well, scientific experimentation is not mentioned in the rules._

The next words out of her mouth seal the deal. “You’re a Corellian. I bet this morning’s breakfast that Togruta is better.” She appeals to his in-born gambler’s nature.

_Okay. Planetary pride trumps all. As well as science._

As she turns and walks towards the back office, his eyes follow her bare back, as she reaches to her neck at the fastening of the dress.

A nagging thought penetrates his mind. _Are you just trying to exorcise Kolan? To exorcise the darkness with the light?_

His eyes track down to the floor after this thought. He follows her in.

He opens the door and stops at the sight. Meglann sits on the desk, an unfathomable expression in her eyes.

Or, it would be unfathomable if he could get to her eyes.

The white dress is pooled on the floor in front of the desk. He takes in her long, thin body, exposed to him for the first time. His breathing quickens as all thoughts of Imperials flee his mind.

“Hope Gort doesn’t burn my winnings,” he manages to gasp. He allows the door to close and walks over to the desk.

He kneels in front of the desk. She scoots to the edge.

As his mouth plays over her core, as she runs her fingers through his gray hair, the light builds in Meglann’s head. The light allows her to think of only one other thing.

_One down, one to go. It’s your turn, Dani._


	10. Drama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fist tightens as a family heals their protector. Elsewhere, another protector wonders if he will be allowed to keep fighting with the huntress.

Leve Stane listens to the battalion commander, _Tonca, that’s his name_ , give his report. Her mind wanders, as it usually does when listening to Imperial officerdom go on and on.

She thinks of the now-departed Stardestroyer and its associated heavy battalion and air support. She thinks of the smaller numbers of troops. Troops that may not even be able to contain an insurgency so insignificant that most of the population doesn’t know it exists.

_Just enough troops to fail._

As Tonca drones on and on, she thinks about who really was behind the removal of her support. Leeza Antol had made no secret of the fact that she was ready to be shot of the mercenary.

Stane shakes her head. Her hand moves to the metal plate in her skull. Her fingers close into a fist at the image of the tiny capsule placed in her brain. A capsule that could paint a fine red mist on the wall of the ISB deputy’s wall, at one slight caress of a trigger.

She feels a sardonic grin flow over her features at the thought of Antol framing the abstract pattern of her own blood. Art entitled _Essence of a Useless Life._

She closes her eyes to send the morbid thoughts away. She saves a bit of the thought for a Corellian mercenary who had given her his name.

She starts as she realizes that Tonca has stopped speaking. He eyes her curiously. Or as curiously as a shak-like face as his can eye anyone. “Continue, Commander,” she says, her blue eye narrowing. The cybernetic eye compensates by glowing a more intense scarlet.

An unintended, but not unwelcome side affect when dealing with Imperial farm-animals, as she sees him blanch.

“As I was saying, there have been more acts of minor sabotage. Mostly minor in nature, but still present.”

“No disloyalty to the Emperor is minor, Commander.” She thinks for a moment. “Send the meat-droid out with increased patrols.” She smiles, the action a death’s head grin in her mangled face. “Send out the tanks from the detachment, as well as the remaining AT-DPs to drive home our displeasure. Arrest more citizens. I don’t think we have enough troops to enforce a curfew, especially with all of the shak in the streets for this damned festival, but we need to crack down more.” She nods to the officer, thinking the conversation over.

He remains standing in front of her. “What is it?” she sighs.

Tonca appears to not want to answer. “We have had desertions in the battalion. Most have been re-captured, but it is a growing problem.”

“Not really, Tonca. Round up the deserters and shoot them in the square. Leave the bodies. Should discourage any of them.”

“Commander, that is about seventy troopers out of fifteen hundred….”

“I don’t care. Make examples of them. While you are at it, shoot a few sergeants and at least one company-grade officer. I don’t suppose that any of the meat-droids are involved.”

She sees Tonca take a step back at her hopeful tone.

“No ma’am. Either in the desertions or in command of the companies affected.”

“Very well. Do it.” He salutes and starts to leave. Before he gets to the door, he stops at her voice. “Let me know when the executions are starting. I will come oversee them.”

Tonca nods and exits the room.

Leve smiles. “Might as well fail gloriously,” she whispers to her dead.

He doesn’t answer.

~=~=~=~=~=

Ahsoka rests in the room-sized, steaming tub, of the small house that Dani had directed her to, her overtaxed muscles still knotted. She lets her eyes close and her mind drift to her confrontation with Bly. Her heart and mind compress as she thinks of her brothers, of how their freedom had been robbed from them in so many ways by Palapatine.

Freedoms robbed by even the Jedi that they had been compelled to serve and them slaughter, as well.

She remembers one trooper in particular. Of his cry as he falls at her back in the fire ravaged cityscape, just as she stabs another trooper on her front.

The picture of Rex’s face after he removed his buy’ce is burned into her brain. He holsters the still smoking DC-17. His eyes close for a moment, then snap open as he begins stripping the dead brother of his armor.

Changing it for his.

In that instant, they are both dead to the universe.

Her eyes snap open as she feels another presence enter the room. A beautiful Zeltron woman, her face only slightly different from Dani’s features, stands just on the edge of the pool. She smiles at Ahsoka.

“You must be Dani’s guest. She told me how beautiful you are, but I think she low-balled it,” the woman says.

Ahsoka’s eyes widen as the long, flowing robe pools at her feet. She steps into the water. Ahsoka feels her heart rate and breathing increase. She notices that the woman blocks the steps to the side of the tub and that she is advancing on her.

The woman, who Ahsoka realizes is slightly taller than Dani, stops and extends her hand.

Her hand is cooler than the water, but not by much. “My name is Alyysina Faygan’ii. I am Dani’s cousin.” She smiles mischievously. “Her much better looking, more skilled, and taller cousin. You can call me Sina.”

Ahsoka manages to find her voice and it comes out in its normal timbre, not as a squeak. “I’m……” She struggles with how much to tell her.

“That’s alright, sweetie. I understand the need for secrecy.” Ahsoka realizes that the cousin’s thumb is stroking her fingers. “Can I call you Beautiful, and be done with it?”

Ahsoka manages to nod as the warmth spreads further down. She sees the amber eyes sharpen as her thumb rubs over the young ex-Jedi’s bruised and lacerated knuckles. “What happened here?”

Ahsoka avoids her eyes. The amber windows transition back to the black.

Not for the reason that they originally had.

“Dani told me you were as stubborn as the day is long,” she says in a sharp voice.

“Yeah. Takes one to know one.”

Sina mutters something in a different language. Ahsoka is startled by the Huttese words. Words that describe her as a mother of a Rancor.

“No. I don’t have any children,” she says with a Smirk.

“What else is injured, girl?” the Zeltron asks. Ahsoka says nothing. “You are fast losing the name, ‘Beautiful,’ girl,” she says. She looks down her somewhat aquiline nose at Ahsoka.

Ahsoka sighs and turns away, leaning against the side of the pool. She can hear the indrawn gasp of breath as the Zeltron sees the extensive bruising on her back, each in the shape of a broken, concentric ring.

As well as the hand-shaped bruise on the rear lek. Something Ahsoka had seen earlier in the mirror.

Sina draws closer. Ahsoka feels the warm lips on her shoulder. “Wait here, Beautiful. I’ll fix it.”

Ahsoka starts to protest. She turns to look at Sina’s face. Her eyes twinkle as she silences the protests with another brief kiss, this time on the lips. “Hush. I am not just another pretty face. I am a licensed healer and medical doctor.”

Ahsoka doesn’t even try to avert her gaze as the length of bare Zeltron rises near her face out of the water.

She continues to not avert her gaze as Sina walks away from her, not bothering with her robe.

Ahsoka is very certain that there might be a fresh bruise on her forehead from banging it lightly against the marble of the poolside, trying to dispel the warmth moving through her limbs.

A heavy splash sends a small wave over her, swamping her. She comes up sputtering, facing the cause of the deluge. Sina’s musical laugh cuts through her core. The doctor puts her hand on the younger woman’s shoulder and turns her to face the side again.

She hears knuckles cracking, then feels warm hands on her shoulders. The hands start a gentle rubbing motion. Ahsoka tries to focus on that, much as she had focused on applying the gentle-to-forceful pressure to Nola’s protesting shoulders.

She almost whimpers as the pressure disappears. The warrior feels a bit of the doctor’s gift grow again, with a subtle difference. Ahsoka imagines that she is suddenly suspended in a warm cocoon. She tries to open her eyes, but suddenly has no desire to. She hears hands rubbing together near her back. She can almost taste the sensation of warmth and healing.

Ahsoka feels Sina’s (she can only assume they are Sina’s; they could be a manifestation of the living Force’s, for all that her brain is able to function) hands, covered with a cooler, thick substance.

A substance that seems to leech into her skin and her bruises. Ahsoka’s mind reels as she feels the light building behind her eyes, as her body gives in to the comfort. She tries to protest, but thinks the better of it. Her protests turn into short, sharp, moans and gasps. They rise to a crescendo.

She can feel herself grinning like an idiot as the aches recede from her back.

“Hey, Beautiful. Gotta touch your lek. Is that okay?” Sina asks.

“Mmm-mhhm,” ‘Beautiful’ mumbles. “Just put it back where you found it.”

She feels the warmth - the different kind of warmth build again as her pain recedes. As the doctor finishes, Ahsoka feels a pair of arms circle her abdomen, holding her close. She tumbles down the whirlpool of her mind.

Her last thought is of a more base nature. _This was a medical procedure, right? It doesn’t count against the bet._

Sina Faygan’ii grins as she hears the vocalization of the thought under the young woman’s breath. _It wouldn’t have if you weren’t wound so tight, my girl,_ she thinks. _Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me._

A snore is her only answer, as she puts her head against the smooth shoulder of the huntress.

Unknown to either of them, Sina’s cousin watches the two women. Tears mark her crimson cheeks as she thinks of the price that huntresses and warriors pay.

~=~=~=~=~=

Meglann allows herself to climb out of her drowsy, contented state. She realizes that she is lying on the couch in the tiny office. She smiles as she feels the weight of the Corellian’s head on her belly. She starts as she realizes that he is still fully clothed, although without boots and gunbelt.

She lifts his head and is struck by the pensive look in his green eyes. “Hey, Gravy-man. You’re thinking way too much for someone who just took me to the stars and back,” she says gently. Her hand caresses his face. Her eyebrow raises as he looks down at the floor. “What’s the matter, sweetie?” she continues.

“Nothing,” is all that he says.

Meglann smiles. “You can’t bullshit me, bud. You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” She sobers, her own eyes growing concerned. “She’s alright, isn’t she?”

He grins sheepishly. “Yeah, apprentice. She is, last I saw her.” His expression hardens. “Though, it is hard to know. Probably won’t see her for awhile.”

Meglann lifts up and kisses him. He comes up from his resting position as the kiss deepens. She smiles against his mouth as she enjoys her tastes on his lips. “I know. I won’t either. I don’t know when I will see her again, now that she had to leave the Mother for awhile,” she says, using the term that natives use for this beautiful, peaceful world.

He can only nod. “Sorry,” he whispers.

“What for, handsome? That you are thinking of her when we’re rocking each other’s world? Or at least trying to on my part, since somebody is wearing too many clothes.” She taps him lightly on his forehead with her knuckles. “Don’t worry your hard little head about it. I know what she means to you. I know what she and you mean to me. Plus, I kinda got an inkling of what I mean to you.” She rests her head against his.

“I know, sweetie,” he says. “It is not just that. I am sorry that you can’t see her. I know that you are her one respite against what she deals with on a daily basis. The one person who isn’t really involved in any big galactic conspiracy and struggle.” He closes his eyes. “You kinda might be what she does it for, on a small scale. What we all fight for.”

Meglann is silent as tears slide down her cheeks. He opens his eyes as he feels the wetness. He kisses the tears as they fall, the salty taste bringing him more alert to her emotions. “Maybe I don’t want to be that. Maybe I want to help her. To help you.”

He is silent for a moment. “I know that this might sound selfish, but I don’t want any more of my loved ones to have to fight. Me. Ahsoka. Nola. Dani. We all are maybe in too deep to stop now. But I would want to know that you are safe, Meglann Florlin. I think that the rest of us, do, too.”

Her eyes close. “You may not get that luxury, sport,” she says, an edge to her voice, opening them. “Right now, maybe. But something is coming. Something that we all may have to fight for.”

He nods. She shakes her head, as she wipes the remnant of tears away. He remains silent. “Well, since I got you on the couch, we might as well bring it all up. What else is bothering you, Bryne?”

She kisses him again to encourage him. Her hands go to his belt-buckle. Within seconds, his pants and underwear are down and on the floor. He grins. “I thought that this was Dani’s method of therapy.”

“Maybe. Out with it,” she finishes as she finishes opening his shirt. Her mouth moves to his chest. He breathes in, sharply, but shakes his head. “I’m okay. Just kind of afraid that I’ll do something stupid and push her away again. Or I won’t be able to fulfill my part of the oath to her.”

She stops. “You stubborn ass. You are almost as stubborn as she is. Both of you would move heaven and earth for each other, no matter the cost. When I hear both of you talk about the other, I don’t just hear that word that neither of you speaks.” He looks away at that. “I hear respect. Pure, unadulterated, respect for each other’s hearts, minds, and skills.”

“So don’t give me that shit, stud. The only way she will push you away, is if she thinks that she has to for the greater good. Not just for you.”

Without warning, before he can react to her words, she pulls him down to her. His eyes widen at the skin-on-skin contact. “Now, someone hasn’t been holding up part of his training bargain.” He jumps as her hand circles his cock and her lips claim his.

“Oh, no,” he manages to say. “Let me be clear. This is not an official lesson. This is merely in the interest of science, as well as upholding the honor of my world…”

His words are lost as her arms and legs circle his back, drawing him to her. “Yeah, well, I can’t settle the bet until the experiment is complete,” she gasps out as he enters her.

As the light builds in his head, her last words before she claimed him resonate through his heart and mind.

_Who determines what the greater good is?_

~=~=~=~=~=

Sina Faygan’ii smiles wistfully as she looks down at the young warrior sprawled on the couch in the sitting area of her room. She pulls a blanket over her and runs her fingers lightly over the wing marking on the cheek. Ahsoka stirs and murmurs in her sleep. She murmurs a name. Sina’s sculpted eyebrows rise. She smiles again as she turns and leaves.

Her smile fades as she walks into the tableau in the sitting room just off the center courtyard. The anger is palpable in her resonance as both participants in the discussion broadcast their displeasure.

“What the hell do you know, you little ingrate? You know nothing about her. You’ve been involved in a little provincial rebellion that has not even made any headway on its own world. How the hell can you know what Ahsoka has faced?”

 _So that is her name. Very pretty, but strong,_ Sina thinks. She focuses on Dani’s words.

“Before she came here, she basically saved the life of the movement, by ending a conspiracy that threatened the world that is the center. All while suffering from a knife wound in her back. A wound that she couldn’t immediately treat in bacta because she has been dipped in it too much lately.”

Sina blanches as she remembers the scars on the Ahsoka’s body as she managed to maneuver her to the couch from the pool. Especially the nasty, newer scar on the back in the intercostals.

She tries to calm. “Not to mention suffering from the fact that a dear friend was possibly about to die.”

Dani’s cousin looks at Tori Laken. He is unmoved. “I guess she has you fooled, Faygan,” he says. “Maybe you’re not as smart as you think you are. Could be the Corel….”

Sina walks up to him. “Stop right there. Do not say anything about her father.” She takes both of them in. “You both need to calm down and focus your ire on the Imps. Not each other. You’re neither helping your world. Or each other.” Her teeth unclinches. She gives them both a hooded look. “Maybe you should try the old ways to negotiate your differences. Let me know if you need the interlocutor.”

At that, she spins on her heels and leaves.

Tori looks at the door as it slams. He looks at Dani. He sees her eyes looking at him appraisingly, up and down. He returns her gaze. “Not a bad idea,” she says.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Unless you want to pass the time some other way.”

“Got any cards?”

“Nope. You think we need your cousin?”

“Nah. She would just get bossy and try to take over the negotiations,” she says. She begins to move towards him, her eyes finally laughing.

In another room, on a small couch, a warrior stirs as sensations intrude into her unconsciousness. Her eyes snap open as the sensations, as well as certain noises cut through her.

She closes her eyes. _Oh shit. Not again._

 

 

 

 

 


	11. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Double-dealings and blasters in the academic world. On the Land of Song, Ahsoka and Dani move to look after family.

Flori Laken, caretaker of a willful Princess, and member of the Royal Household of Alderaan, walks through the door of the ornate, heavily paneled room. She smiles at the rows of ancient texts that line the walls. The young woman remembers the books in her own house, books that her father and his partner had collected over the years. Books that she, of all of the three children, had devoured, over hours spent lying on the floor at the base of the shelves.

Her eyes grow misty as she remembers her family. Her father, so serious, but so loving before the mad obsession had taken him over. His partner, a rock of sanity later for she and the two brothers. Two parts of three that she had raised, whether on Zeltros, or the hellhole that they had been taken to.

She thinks of Zan with his ready smile, of Tori with his fierce protectiveness for them all.

Flori shakes her head and looks at the young woman seated at the table. She rises and extends her hand. “I am Doctor Statau’s graduate student. I understand that you have something for the Doctor or someone else in the Cultures department to look at?”

Flori takes the proffered hand. Her eyebrows raise at the nervousness of the young woman. Flori smiles her most charming smile to put the young woman at ease. “Yes. A text that my father, who studied our distant past told me about. He was researching certain, ah, neurological gifts that our people have.

 _Probably shouldn’t mention that he was trying to find a way to weaponize it on a large scale,_ she thinks. The young woman nods. Flori pulls out her datapad and brings up the image of the tome.

The young woman’s dark eyes focus on the image. “Do you have the book handy?” she asks.

“I have it safe,” Flori answers matter-of-factly. “Where is it?” the woman asks.

Her paranoia since her conversation with Nola rises. Alarm bells sound in her head. She looks at the woman and opens her resonance a bit.

She doesn’t detect nervousness or fear as she had thought.

She detects something darker.

Deceit.

“Not until you read the caption,” she says firmly. The young woman’s dark skin flushes as she looks at the screen.

She smiles. “ _You-kah torin_. It means ‘forbidden knowledge,” she says.

Flori takes the datapad from her hands. “I think that we are done here.” She turns.

“What do you mean? The Doctor—,”

“Don’t know who you work for, but you don’t work for a Professor of Zeltron Culture.” She smiles. “That phrase means ‘Land of Song’. It is another name for the Home. My world.”

She stops as another young woman stands in the door. A slightly lighter-skinned young woman, with a calculating look in her dark eyes. “Going somewhere, dear?”

Flori doesn’t hesitate. She lowers her shoulder and charges the young woman, striking her with her full weight.

The woman goes down. Flori leaps over her.

And promptly falls on the floor, the woman’s hand on her ankle. She stifles a cry as her knee strikes the hard floor. Flori instinctively kicks out at the woman’s head with her foot.

There is another cry as she connects. The young woman’s tattooed right arm clutches her head.

The left remains firmly connected to Flori’s ankle. Flori feels the weight of the other young woman land fully on her body as Tattoo twists to pull her in. The woman has stopped clutching her head and has drawn a large Corellian blaster from a pouch on her belt.

“Now that’s not exactly fair, dear,” comes a dry voice from the other side of the hall. A very tall young woman stands in the middle. Her left hand holds a cane, loosely. It is her right that draws the two attackers’ attention, however.

A small Naboo blaster is pointed at the second woman’s head. “Thought I would even up the odds.” Her sharp, dark eyes narrow at the pair. “Now let’s have a conversation about who sent you.”

~=~=~=~=~=

Ahsoka walks out into the common room, stretching. She walks over to the large picture window and stands in front of it. A slight smile plays over her lips as she looks out over the beautiful world, watching its bright, joyous people go about their business.

Her smile fades as she thinks about the darkness in other places. The darkness that she is fighting.

The darkness that has come to this peaceful, light-filled world.

She is afraid of what will happen. She senses a presence behind her. Her expression darkens as she realizes who it is.

Ahsoka slowly turns. Her eyes widen for a half-second as they focus on Tori.

All of him.

His eyes are challenging, as if daring her to say something.

She doesn’t rise, but gives an expression of her own.

Her trademark Smirk.

The expression grows more intense as she drops her eyes to his middle. He tries to keep his eyes locked on hers, but fails at what she knows is her own intense expression of derision and snark.

“Like what you see, Tano?”

“Not bad. Nothing I haven’t see before, in adult size,” she says, nonchalantly. Her tone manages not to betray the fact that she doesn’t have a large number of examples to compare it to. “But, it ain’t the shell that I have a problem with. It’s the heart and mind inside.”

He is able to hold her gaze for another minute, before spinning and exiting the room. He pushes past Dani as she walks in. “You almost had me convinced, Faygan,” he says, “but exposure to your friend has convinced me that I need to keep doing what I was doing.”

Dani rolls her eyes and shifts her gaze to Ahsoka. She says nothing as she stares at Dani.

Dani is able to keep from flinching. “What? I figured someone had to do something, rather than just sitting around and glaring.”

“So you kriffed him? That was your solution?” Ahsoka asks, her voice cold.

“It was an attempt. Our people do try to negotiate solutions. That is one method that is known by both of us.”

“Yeah. Great excuse for getting laid,” Ahsoka says.

“Maybe you should try it sometime,” Dani replies, her expression blank.

Ahsoka closes her mouth. She shakes her head. Dani’s eyes soften. “That was low of me,” she whispers. “I am sorry.”

The young ex-Jedi smiles “No. I shouldn’t have been so judgmental. Plus, I may have ruined all of your hard work. Just by being me,” she says ruefully.

“I don’t know if I made actual headway. We were talking afterwards, that is what the negotiation tactic is based on. That both parties are open minded after an act of the body.” Her own rueful expression spreads over crimson features. “Maybe I should’ve taken Doof up on her offer of being the interlocutor.’

“Doof?” Ahsoka asks, her eyebrow markings rising.

Dani smiles. “Childhood nickname. Comes from a children’s holonet show. _Snork and Doof._ ”

“Let me guess. You were Snork?”

Dani looks down her nose at the younger woman. “I will not comment. Don’t you dare tell anyone about that.”

Ahsoka smiles and makes a mental note to ask Sina about the names. “So what does the interlocutor do in this type of negotiation?”

Dani smirks. “They uh, facilitate the discussion. As well as the opening of the minds.”

Ahsoka is silent for a moment. “Hmm.” she says, her eyes thoughtful. “What?” Dani says, a suspicious look flowing to her features.

“Oh nothing,” she says. In her mind’s eye, she thinks about a deadly animosity between two of her friends and allies. Between a Zeltron cop and a Pantoran pirate. A feud that dates back to the Clone Wars. A feud that resulted in knife wounds to both, and other threats of mayhem, since.

She makes another note to read up on the duties of the interlocutor in a Zeltron negotiation.

_Might be fun. At least after a month._

She notices Dani looking at her intently. She feels the warmth rise again. “Come on, Daaineran. Please. Give me a break with the resonance. This is hard enough concentrating on the Imps.”

She feels the warmth recede.

A tiny bit.

“At least I know I have an effect on you, dear,” Dani says. Ahsoka fights the sensations, and to Dani’s surprised look, walks over and envelops the officer in a tight embrace. “You always do, woman,” Ahsoka whispers into her ear.

A heavy vibration shakes the building and cuts through both of them. The vibration increases, as another sound intrudes.

A sharp, heavy sound.

The sound of massed energy weapons. They both look at one another as their senses attempt to locate the source of the blasterfire.

Dani’s eyes grow panicked. “Sina is out on the streets going to work.”

The door remains open as they both grab their outerwear on their way out of the room.

~=~=~=~=~=

The scene is frozen for half a moment, as the young woman tangled up with Flori tries to decide what to do. The half a moment is enough as she sees Nola’s eyes flick to the opposite hallway and grow thunderous.

The ‘graduate student’ takes that instant to draw a blaster and fire at the Naboo. As Flori struggles with the tattooed woman, she hears a cry from that area.

Flori’s heart sinks, but she feels nothing in her resonance other than Nola’s bright signature. She looks up to see Nola against the wall, where she had managed to dodge the bolt, at the cost of slamming her still-healing side into the wall. Flori’s opponent jumps up and grabs her partner, turning towards the distraction. Flori’s eyes widen as she looks in that direction. A tall human male with emotionless black eyes stands in the hallway with a smirk on his face.

It is not his eyes, nor the blaster that draws her attention.

It is the gray-green uniform he wears. He has not even drawn the blaster on his hip. He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it as a large blur tackles him and slams him against the wall.

Causing the blaster bolt that the imposter had instantly sent towards him, probably in the half-second before she saw the uniform, pass where his torso had been.

There is an audible gasp from the young woman. The second of regret passes as she sends blaster bolts in both directions before bolting down the corridor where Nola is struggling to get up, as well as reach for her blaster. She manages to reach out with her cane and tag the tattooed young woman on the shin, tripping her for a moment.

The leader struggles to keep hold of her partner in crime and half-drags her down the corridor and out of sight.

Nola pulls herself up the nearest wall. Flori manages to rise, ignoring the pain in her knee. She moves to Nola’s position, where she holds her side where it had contacted with the wall while dodging the bolts. As she reaches her full height, she bends back over at the waist as pain flows over her features.

Flori hugs Nola’s larger body to her and pulls her up again, sending the comfort of her resonance to her. She sees Nola look up and at the pair lying on the floor in the opposite corridor. Flori grins as she feels the snark rise through the brief connection, even before any words are spoken.

Flori’s eyes follow her look. The unknown male and Covenant are struggling to untangle themselves. She hears the dry Coruscanti accent of the Imperial. “You know, King, if you really wanted to wrestle, all you had to do was ask. Probably would’ve involved dinner and less clothing.”

There is an unintelligible response from the Corellian. The tone gives no mistake on the meaning. They both look up at a sharp voice from the other corridor.

“Could you two assholes quit admiring each other’s manly physiques and maybe go after them? I’ll gladly spring for a candlelit dinner and a secluded table for you both if you would just go get the bad guys!”

The snark is finally heard by Flori, not just felt through her gift.

Covenant is the only one able to get up, as his ‘date’ shakes his head where it had connected with the wall. Covenant stops at Nola on his way after the pair. The concern on his face is palpable. “Go, sweetie,” she says quietly. “Go get them.”

As he disappears, she turns to the Imperial. Flori watches her and smiles as she steps on the end of her cane and flips it into her hand. She hobbles over to the remaining fighter. Flori rises with her. They walk over to him, and without a word, each grabs an arm and hauls him up.

“I didn’t know that you cared, your Grace,” he says with a grin. He nods his thanks to them both.

“Oh, I don’t, Trigger. I just don’t like littering on our beautiful world. Especially since you probably already put a dent in the wall where your head hit.”

Flori giggles at the dark expression on his face. She remembers a nickname she had heard Covenant use for the Hand.

_The Last Word._

~=~=~=~=~=

Ahsoka and Dani run towards the city center, towards the cacophony of sounds. As they reach a small side street, Ahsoka grabs Dani and pulls her into a doorway.

Dani’s eyes widen as the warrior points towards the main street.

They glimpse Imperial hovertanks passing by, with stormtrooper support behind them. A loud clanking noise takes their attention. They look up as one of the new All Terrain-Defense Pod walkers passes them by. Ahsoka starts to move forward, motioning Dani to stay back.

Dani of course, rolls her eyes and follows closely, her cloak and hood billowing behind her. She stops at Ahsoka’s back at the edge of the side street.

She watches the young warrior as she eyes the Imperials. “Looks like a platoon of tanks. Only a couple of the small walkers. Stormtroopers instead of Fleet troopers, so it isn’t just the garrison. I don’t hear any more armor around, so the mechanized units from the ImpStar haven’t moved down.”

“Sina said that one of Tori’s little farts in the wind took out the one big walker and most of the small ones.” Ahsoka nods absently. The hair on Dani’s neck stands on end as both they look up as an even louder rumble sounds. The heretofore silently floating Stardestroyer ignites its engines. It begins to majestically rise towards the upper atmosphere.

“That could be some good news, right?” Dani asks.

“Yeah. Unless they’re gaining altitude to bombard the city from orbit.”

“You are always such a sunny optimist, babe,” Dani says dryly. Ahsoka’s smile and reply are lost as they hear more blasterfire from the center square. Ahsoka takes off, jinking to avoid sighting by the Imperials.

Dani is as close on her heels as anyone a head and a half shorter and no Force enhancement can be. They both slide to a stop in horror.

Imperial stormtroopers are positioning a man and a woman against an already pockmarked wall in an open area of the square. The pair are clad in the black bodysuits that Imperial stormtroopers wear under their plastoid. They are both blindfolded and their hands are bound behind their backs.

The other Imperials step back as a squad of armored troopers raise their long rifles. A crash is heard and the pair recoils against the wall and slump down. Dani averts her eyes at the damage to their chests. Another stormtrooper, his armor marked with the red pauldron of an officer walks up and fires a single bolt into the heads of the prisoners.

Ahsoka and Dani can see that the squad has been busy as the dead troopers are dragged to a pile of their likewise bound and blindfolded fellows.

Dani can feel her anger building, but she fights to remain calm Ahsoka takes Dani’s hand. They both look over at the pile, but spot no flashes of crimson skin.

“They haven’t started killing us, yet. No one deserves that fate,” Dani says.

Ahsoka says nothing. Dani notices that her eyes are fixed on a figure watching the proceedings. A figure with yellow-olive skin and a swatch of bright red hair. Dani instantly knows the figure. She knows that Ahsoka is seeing herself kneeling in an airlock with this woman’s blaster against her head, the woman’s now-dead husband watching.

The figure looks a lot different than when Ahsoka and Dani had each seen her last. For Dani, that time had been as she was cartwheeling away from her on a communications tower, her body making wet, horrible smacking noises as it hit several walls on the way down. There had been no metal present in the woman’s face and body.

She feels Ahsoka’s hand tighten on hers.

“Easy, sweetie. I know,” Dani says. “But we have to go. We’ll worry about her later.”

She sees the warrior’s lips tighten in a thin line. “Come on,” she says in a low voice. “Let’s go find Sina.”

~=~=~=~=~=

Covenant races down the stairs, hoping that the delay in saving the ISB officer’s ass hasn’t kept him from catching the two women.

He charges out the door, just in time for a blaster bolt to strike the door frame near his head. In one movement, he draws, checks his target, and squeezes the trigger twice. There are two brief yelps as his bolts intersect with the legs of the two women.

 _Or at least the upper thigh area_ , he thinks. He winces, involuntarily, as he remembers being wounded there only a month or so before. Both women stumble, but manage to keep their feet. The tattooed one turns and fires again before they start running (or hobbling fast) away. He sighs as he increases his speed. _If they outrun me with two blaster bolts to the ass, I will never live this down._

The two women suddenly duck into a side alley as they move further away from the University district. Covenant slides to a stop at the entrance and looks cautiously around the corner. He grins as he sees the two climbing an emergency escape. He walks in to the alley and opens his mind.

The Force screams a warning, as he is encouraged to dodge several blaster bolts from the pair as they pause in their climbing. He is a blur as he jinks left and right as he advances.

He is brought to a stop by a sharp command from behind. “Halt! Planetary Security. Drop your weapon and get on the ground.”

He turns. “I’m on your side, boys. Corellian Security.”

“I said _drop your weapon,_ ” the older of the two officers repeats. Covenant rolls his eyes as he sees the shaking blasters. “We will stun you.”

Covenant is half-tempted to try them, after his last encounter with Alderaani security forces.

The charges of disorderly conduct and littering may still stand, even now. The littering charge added on after he rested on the ground from multiple stun blasts. He sighs and calmly holsters his weapon. _No-no, you really need to find someone to teach your peacekeepers a thing or two._

~=~=~=~=~=

At this precise moment, Nola Vorrserrie is rubbing her temple and seriously considering a career in retail. She has stopped listening to Dav Kolan attempting to bully Flori Laken into giving up everything she knows about what the two women were after.

She tunes them both out, both Dav’s bluster and Flori’s snark and tears.

She begins to catalogue in her mind a comparison of the smoothness of skin of her various lovers. She has just reached a rating of smooth orange skin when part of her mind sees the ISB agent finally cross the line.

Kolan seizes Flori’s arm and reaches behind him for something.

To her credit, Flori, with tears streaking down her face, kicks him in the knee.

Dav Kolan raises his head to a definitive _ahem_. He finds himself staring down the barrel of a fancy Naboo blaster. “You might want to rethink your life, sweetie,” Nola says.

“Nola, I like you, but I don’t think that I can let this pass. I will have to end you,” the Imperial says with a dangerous tone.

“Might be hard missing half of your head,” the Hand of the Queen replies.

He releases Flori’s arm. “You would risk everything for a Zeltron servant girl?” he asks quietly.

“Without hesitation,” Nola replies, her eyes hard.

“So would I,” comes a powerful voice. The three of them look around.

Breha, Queen of Alderaan, wife of the Senator, stands in the corridor, looking at the tableau in front of her. A dozen or so Royal Guards, including the ubiquitous Gregar Typho, stand around her, their hands on their weapons.

Nola and Flori both bow. After a moment, Dav inclines his head. Breha walks over, pulling a handkerchief from her sleeve. Nola watches as she gently reaches up and wipes Flori’s tears. “I would do anything for a member of my family, Agent Kolan,” she says quietly. Dav has to strain to hear her. “You of all people should know that.”

Nola watches as Dav looks away, his eyes growing distant.

After a moment, he nods. “I know, Majesty. But I am seeking information that could stop a conspiracy against Imperial authority. I am pressed for time. Ms. Laken, here, could be helpful.”

“I care not for Imperial conspiracies unless they threaten my world or my family.” She raises her hands, palms outward, at his look. “But we will help you, simply because you helped protect my family when they were threatened.” Nola meets her fond gaze. “When my fierce Hand was laid low by a bug-bite.”

Dav smiles and looks at Nola. “After three weeks of struggle and intense pain, the bug finally gave up the ghost.” Nola looks down as the Royal, the young woman, and the hardened soldier enjoy a brief shared laugh at her expense.

As the laughter subsides, Dav looks at the Queen. “I think that I may need your help, Majesty. Especially your expertise in relief. The man who I believe is at the middle of this conspiracy has launched an incursion on a small world. A peaceful world that now has an Imperial occupation force.” He looks at Flori. “Whatever he is seeking, we think that Flori might have information that could be useful to Poldar….”

He stops as Nola sees the Queen’s dark eyes flash. “Dairlen Poldar?”

He nods after a moment. “Yes, Majesty. Moff Poldar.” She snorts. “His family has been a thorn in Alderaan’s and my family’s side since the Republic Senate ruled on its lack of Elder Family status.” Her face darkens as she gazes at the agent. “A ruling reversed by the Imperial Senate, I might add.”

She shakes her head. “No matter. What do you need from me?”

“While I believe in order, I do not believe in force for force’s sake. I may need to call upon Alderaan’s relief efforts.” The three women look at him incredulously. “What? I do have a heart.” He grins. “Even if it is three-chambered.”

Breha nods with a brief smile. “We can help. What can we expect on Flori’s world?” He touches Flori’s arm gently as he sees her close her eyes. “I really don’t know. We have managed to reduce the occupation force to just an stormtrooper battalion and reassign their destroyer. Other forces are working on a different solutions. We may need security forces to establish calm.”

Nola and Breha look at one another and nod. “We think CorSec might be able to do that. Their Rangers would be a good leavening force,” Nola says. She grins. “Their Chief Superintendent of Training is already there.”

Kolan rolls his eyes. “Yes. Well, someday the Dragon and I will have a discussion about that.” He claps his hands together, wincing from his damaged shoulder. “Well, we’re agreed. I will back off this investigation, at least from Ms. Laken’s part in it. I’ll let Covenant see what he can get with her. That is,” he says with hooded look, “if he hasn’t let two teenagers kick his ass and make off with our only leads.”

Breha chuckles. She nods and turns with her guards. Flori follows, leaving Nola alone with Kolan.

“I’ll let you lean on me, Nola, if I can lean on you.” After a moment, she moves closer to him, placing her uninjured side on his uninjured. They both begin to move slowly down the corridor. He looks hard at her. “I respect you a great deal, but as I told Covenant, don’t ever point a weapon at me again, your Grace.”

She smiles, but gives no ground. “Don’t ever give me cause to, Trigger.”


	12. Digging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Zeltrons are threatened. Ahsoka acts.
> 
> On Alderaan, knowledge.

Bly looks fondly at the assembled officers. He raises his bottle of _netra’gel_ to the small group of middle-aged appearing men. Veterans all.

A group getting smaller with the passing years. He sighs. Five of the toughest surviving brothers, all from his original battalion of the 327th Star Corps. 

The core that Aayla’s vast command was built around. As always, he digs his nails in the palms of his hands to dispel the memories of that night. To dispel the loss of control and slaughter of the most important person in his universe, indeed in all of their universes.

The sensations that are threatening to return. Returning since his encounter with the young Togruta ex-Jedi. He smiles as he remembers her earnest young face on the mission to the Lurmen’s planet. Of her stalwart defense of all of them.

Her _Mandokar_. The essence of their assimilated culture. His smile fades as he thinks of their recent encounter. Of her maturing features. Features that reflect a thousand pains and tragedies in her deep blue eyes. 

He shakes his head, bringing himself back to the present. Gooder, the other Major and cohort commander looks at him curiously. “You okay, Commander?” he asks, unconsciously using Bly’s former title.

“Not bad, Gooder.” He takes a deep drink, putting the bottle down reluctantly with a satisfied sigh. “Glad you can still get the good stuff, _Vod_.” 

“That’s how I got my name, Bly.” There are chuckles among the five officers. Four company commanders, two from each of his and Gooder’s cohorts. The backbone of the battalion, shoring up the other fleshborn officers and products of academies the galaxy over. “We all know why we are here, right?”

There are nods from all of them. “Tonca could possibly see this as sedition. I am hoping that if we have to do something, he’ll see it as a necessary move to save the battalion’s honor.”

There is a snort from the back of the room. Bly doesn’t correct the dissident. “I know. He has no loyalty to the battalion. Hopefully he will be gone soon. But I can’t guarantee we will get anyone better.”

He changes the subject. “Gooder. Report,” he says curtly.

His brother looks at him with knowing eyes. “The ISB woman is killing troopers right and left. Even if they are late to being back to barracks, she is calling it desertion and standing them against the wall and making their comrades end them.”

There is murmuring among the clone officers. One of the captains speaks up. “Sir, they shot the captain of the company with the largest number of desertions, as well as all of the squad leaders of any squads with desertions. We are down about seventy to eighty effectives, as well as somewhat effective leadership.”

His brother’s veiled contempt for the fleshborn stormtroopers is apparent.

Gooder nods. “I don’t know what she is playing at, but we cannot take much more of this. Plus, we aren’t arresting a lot of the populace, but we are disrupting their religious festivals. We are also slagging about with the heavy hand. It is only a matter of time before we find those assholes that have been breaking things.” 

The captain, Til, nods. “We nearly had them. I don’t think that they are that organized. You were with us, Bly, when we disrupted their little church social.”

“Yeah,” Bly replies. “About that. I think that there are elements on the planet, as well as some that have come, that may be working to calm things down. I don’t want to say too much, so that you will all stay out of it, if it goes south, but I am working on getting us out of here.”

Gooder clasps him on his shoulder. Bly mirrors the movement. “You have earned the right to our trust a million times over, _ner vod_ ,” he says. “We are with you.” They both pull their foreheads together. The men are silent. 

Finally, the most junior officer speaks. “Commander, we have heard that more and more of our brothers are being decommissioned. The ones of the original batches. Our batchmates.”

_Decommissioned_ , Bly thinks. _A fancy word for being cast off. Or worse, sold into slavery_.

“Yes. They stopped the processing of clones right after Order 66. Most of the new batches have been used for the toughest assignments, without the training that we received. They have basically been used as cannon fodder.”

“Then, maybe we should be thinking about ourselves,” Till says quietly. “About our exit strategy.”

Bly shakes his head. “I don’t want to contemplate that now. We trained the men in our cohorts and companies. They are not _Vode_ , but they are our responsibilities. I am going to try to save as many of them as I can.”

Gooder speaks up, as Bly had always encouraged them in their councils. “I know, Bly. But I am not sure that they would return your loyalty. I am not sure that we owe loyalty to the Empire. An Empire that is going to cast us aside.”

There is silence as they contemplate the enormity of Gooder’s words.

~=~=~=~=~=

Ahsoka hears a scream coming from around the corner. She looks at Dani. They increase their speed. She slams to a hidden spot. Behind her, there is an intake of breath as they gaze at the scene before them.

An Imperial hovertank idles in the street. A squad of troopers mills about with the crew. Dani starts forward. Ahsoka sees her cousin, Sina standing toe to toe with the tank commander.

A small child is the source of the screams. The mother holds the child. Blood pours from the small leg.

“…this child cannot be moved without proper precautions. You will have to wait.” The doctor stares up at the expressionless crewman’s visor. Dani smiles with pride as she starts toward her cousin. 

The smile disappears as her black eyes flash at Ahsoka’s hand on her arm. “Let go of me, Tano. I am going to save my cousin.”

“I know. But let’s do it smart, Daaineran,” the warrior says gently.

Dani looks away as they listen. 

“Move along, Zeltron scum. This tank has to be somewhere else.”

Cries of “Let them get the boy! You ran up on the curb and sidewalk!” Ahsoka can feel something that she has not felt from this joyous, light-filled people, since she arrived.

_Anger and fear_. Her mind remembers the mantra. _They lead to the dark side._

She reaches out to her mystical friend. As she does, another, sharp voice breaks in. In an instant, she is transported back to the starliner’s airlock, trying to figure out how to keep from dying.

“What is the hold up, Sergeant?” the woman asks. 

“A child was struck by the tank,” he replies. “We are waiting on proper equipment to transport it,”

“You are allowing Imperial business to be subverted by an injured savage?” Ahsoka can hear the contempt in her voice.

She turns away. “Shoot the child and drag it out of the way.”

The murmuring and the resonance increases in anger. Ahsoka’s calm, nurtured throughout these few days, snaps. She starts towards Stane. A haze of red surrounds her vision. A taste of ashes flows to her tongue. 

A vision of a tall young Jedi with a scar through his right eye, looking at her sadly, cuts through the red. _At least for the moment._

_I should’ve ended her on the liner_ , comes to her mind unbidden. 

Unbeknownst to her, Dani is thinking the same thing. The Zeltron takes her turn at seizing her arm. “No, love. You can’t.”

“The hell I can’t,” Ahsoka says. 

They stop as they see Sina step between the trooper and the child. “You can’t murder a child, you son of a bitch,” the doctor says.

At that moment, the stretcher droid and two medical assistants arrive. The Sergeant watches as Sina turns away to her patient. “Scoop and go, Careful” she says to the droids. They set to work, carefully lifting the child on to the backboard of the stretcher. 

“Stop,” the Sergeant says, pointing his blaster at Sina’s head. “My superior has ordered an execution.” 

The droids, true to their programming, ignore him and move out with the boy, the mother running behind them.

“Well, she also told you to get a move on. You can shoot me, or you can leave, now that the boy is gone and you can’t murder him.” She places her forehead against the muzzle and closes her eyes.

He stands there, still holding the blaster to Sina’s head. His finger tightens on the trigger. Beside her, Ahsoka sees Dani pull something from her shawl-sporran. She incongruously smiles at the concussion grenade, as well as the fierce expression. She shakes her head and closes her eyes.

Ahsoka allows herself open to the Force. She senses Dani moving in closer, straining to hear her words. 

“You don’t want to shoot her. You need to get to your assignment,” she whispers.

In an instant, she sees the trooper hesitate.

He holsters his blaster and turns to mount the tank. He looks back in their direction. “Move along,” Ahsoka whispers again. 

The Sergeant turns to the crowd. “Move along.”

Ahsoka opens her eyes. Dani reaches over and touches her cheek. “If we weren’t in such a bind, I would take you to the nearest alcove and fuck your brains out,” she says.

“I might help you with that,” says a shaky voice behind them. Dani turns around and seizes her cousin. “You stupid _chah-dere_ ,” she says, squeezing the woman tighter. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if he had shot you, love.”

Sina kisses her cousin. Sina looks at Ahsoka. “What was that? I felt something in your emotions. Something I have never felt before.”

Ahsoka doesn’t answer. Finally, she turns. “I am going to see about calming this stuff down.” At that, she walks away. 

Dani watches as Sina’s eyes follow her incredulously. “What did I say?” she asks, turning back her cousin.

Dani kisses her again. “Nothing, sweetie. It is just better that you don’t know what she did.”

Dani sees Sina’s eyes grow troubled, just before she looks away. As soon as she does, Dani allows the tears to spill from her eyes. 

Dani keeps the sobs quiet, as she thinks to her past. Of the vision of another powerful Jedi huntress, touching the Force.

~=~=~=~=~=

“Hold still, dammit,” the young woman says to the other. 

“It hurts, Sana,” the young graduate student says. 

“Yeah, well, mine does too. You don’t see me whining about it. Besides,” she says with a hooded look, “maybe you should’ve thought about that before you got us into this mess.” 

Aphra slumps. “I know. But it seemed like easy money. As well as some respectability of working for an Imperial muckety-muck.”

“Yeah, well. Now we are going to have to hide, because we didn’t find what he wanted. Either that or go ahead and put our heads in the strangling noose.” She finishes with the bacta pad on Aphra’s ass. She smirks, and reaches down to kiss the injured part. 

Aphra doesn’t react. “You aren’t in danger, love,” she says. “He doesn’t know who you are. He knows what I look like, but I didn’t use my name. We have the forged scandocs.”

“Yeah,” Sana says, as she touches the student’s arm with its distinctive tattoo, “but you are pretty memorable. Not too many graduate students with this and a crazy-ass avaricious look in their eyes.”

Aphra gives her a dark look. She looks thoughtful. “Well, the little pretty we are looking for had connections with the Royal family. Maybe we can throw ourselves on their mercy.”

Sana rolls her eyes and looks around the dingy room. _Guess I’ll have to be the one to come up with a sensible plan to get her out of this._

The door opens suddenly. Their pursuer is standing there, a keydisk to their room in his hand. “Hello, ladies. Remember me?”

In spite of their situation, Sana smiles. “Hard to forget you, darling. You were so persistent.” She looks at her partner. “Wonder which one of us he wants? I have heard a great deal about Corellian males.”

“Maybe both,” Aphra says. 

His eyes take on a devilish cast.“Maybe later,” he says. “Perhaps I can help you with your Imperial problem,” he says.

Sana watches as Aphra looks up at him, a slightly bent cast to her face. “We’re listening, handsome.”

He walks fully into the room.

~=~=~=~=~=

The man with a skull-like face listens to the arguing pair in the conference room. He looks at the naval trooper standing guard. It would be so easy to order the trooper to open fire on both men.

Moff Wilhuff Tarkin shakes his head. _No. At least one of them is useful._

He looks at the non-useful one as he tunes back in. “…it is my right to carry out anti-insurgency operations in my Sector, Moff Secor. Even your status on the Ubiqtorate gives you no authority to interfere.

Janos Secor smirks. “Whatever do you mean, my dear Moff Poldar? I have done nothing to interfere with your operation.”

Poldar stands up. “How can you sit there and say that, Secor?” he says. All semblance of decorum leaves the room as he continues. “You pulled one of my Stardestroyers away, as well as the rest of the Legion. You had no authority.”

“Actually, I do, Poldar, as a Naval Moff and member of the Ubiqtorate,” He continues to smirk. “I was merely responding to a request from Lord Vader for more support for his operations in the Outer Rim.” His placid face grows more dangerous. “By the way, I reassigned the rest of the heavy units of your Sector fleet and Army to the Outer Rim. It is my strategic and tactical opinion that your Inner Rim Sector can make do with light cruisers and frigates.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” 

Tarkin shakes his head. _Not time yet._ “Enough. Secor, leave the units where they are for now. The Emperor wants our full attention on the Outer Rim. Poldar, you are wasting precious resources on a world that not only has not been a problem, but one that members of the Imperial court value for its, ah, charms.”

Poldar blanches at Tarkin’s pointed look. “The Emperor is not ready to intercede, yet,” the Moff continues, giving emphasis to the last word, “but he wants the matter resolved satisfactorily. “He doesn’t care too much for the opinions of his court and the Senate, but it is good to keep them distracted.”

He stands. The other two Moffs rise. “See that you handle it, Poldar.” After a moment, the Alderaani nods and leaves. He doesn’t acknowledge the other Moff.

Secor looks at Tarkin. “He is up to something, sir,” he says. Tarkin looks at his colleague from years in the Navy and the Judicials. “I know. But he still has a tiny value to the Emperor. We need to make sure that we have the evidence to back up any movement against him.”

“I have someone working on that, Governor.” He puts his cap on and salutes as he turns and exits. 

Behind him, Tarkin picks up a report on insurgency in the Ryloth sector.

~=~=~=~=~=

Bryne walks into the small office in the University Cultural Studies building. He grins as he thinks of his brief aspiration to be a Consular. A historian or an archaeologist. Brief because of being recognized as a potential Shadow, rather than a scholar. Then a small detour of a little something called the Clone War. The grin broadens as he thinks of how he became ass-deep in history, rather than the study of it.

He walks into the conference room. The three inhabitants of the room look up. Kolan and Nola smirk at each other. “Told you,” Kolan says, his dark eyes laughing. “He got his ass handed to him by a couple of little girls.” 

Nola’s smile fades as she sees his expression. “Tell me what you found, Bryne,” she says. “Nothing much. Just proof that an Imperial Moff is behind this whole damned thing.” He looks at Kolan. “I need two get-out-of-an-execution droid cards with blank names on it.”

“Oh, really? Would you be willing to take their place on the chopping block?”

“Nope. You might get hurt if you try,” he says quietly. 

Nola rolls her eyes. “Gentlemen, please. Lower the threats and whatnot. I am trying to save a world here. A world dear to my foster-sister.” Covenant sees Kolan filing this information away. 

Bryne smiles. “Sorry, No-no. Look, Dav, you get your Moff, and maybe, we can save Zeltros from his minions. What is the harm in letting two teenaged girls go?”

“It sets a precedent,” Kolan says. He starts at something in the Corellian’s eyes. Something he has never seen before. He makes up his mind. “Okay, Covenant. I’ll play. Get them off world, and I will make sure they are lost. I don’t even have their names, anyway, and just a vague impression of what they look like, from my head slamming into a wall.” His eyes gleam. “I could be still suffering from a serious head injury. I am not myself.”

“Yeah. You suddenly have a personality.” Bryne closes his eyes as he sees the gleam intensify. “So I guess that I am going to owe you something, aren’t I, Trigger? Let me guess. Dessert.”

“No. I want you to get into bed with me of your own free will.” He smiles at Flori’s enlarged eyes. “All I want is very simple. I just want you to admit that you and I slept together. That you actually enjoyed it as much as I thought that you did.”

The room falls silent. Both young women look at Dav, and then Bryne. A strange smile comes over Bryne’s face. He moves over to Dav. The ISB agent’s eyes narrow, then his right eyebrow quirks. Bryne’s hands go to either side of Kolan’s face. He draws the Lothali’s lips to his.

It is to their credit that neither Nola nor Flori fall from their chairs as the two men’s mouths meld and their tongues explore.

They break apart. Kolan’s eyes are slightly unfocused.

Covenant’s expression is unreadable. “Satisfied?” he asks. 

Kolan nods. He takes a moment to respond. “Okay. Your ‘witnesses’ will be safe.”

Bryne catches the eye of Nola, who is uncharacteristically speechless. He jerks his eyes towards the door, then the Imperial. “Come on, Dav,” the young woman says, “Let’s go make arrangements. We’ll get them safe passage off of the Mother.” Dav rises. He stops at Covenant. The officer says nothing. Kolan shakes his head and follows the Naboo.

Flori stands up. She walks over to Covenant. She allows her resonance to surround him, in ‘comfort’ mode. “You okay, Inspector?” she asks. 

“Yeah,” he says. He looks at her. “We don’t have a great deal of time, Flori,” he says quietly. “I had to do something that you probably won’t like.” At that, he pulls a small package from the inside pocket of his coat. 

“What the hell?” the young woman says, a snarl in her voice. “Where did you get that?”

“I opened your room and searched it.”

“You son of a bitch. You had no right….” She punches him in the chest. She goes to hit him higher. He gently catches her hand. “I know. But this is serious. Lives may depend on it, Flori. Your’s. Your world’s, even Meglann and anyone here.”

A cry is wrenched from her throat. “That is the only thing that I have that was my father’s.”

Covenant pulls her into his arms, placing his lips on her forehead. “I know. I met your father. Just before he died.”

She shakes her head. “He wasn’t evil. He just wanted knowledge. I wanted to see if some of his research could help someone.”

“I know. I saw him try to help Dani and others at the last.” He looks down as the memories play through his mind’s eye. 

“Did you kill him?” the young woman asks. 

“No. His employer did.” She doesn’t ask him to elaborate. He looks at her. “Did you know that your father was a Force-sensitive?”

Her eyes widen. She shakes her head violently. “No. No.” The sobs come loud and for several moments. 

Covenant pulls her fully into his arms. 

“Do you think that if we open this damned book, that there may be something in there that can help my world?” she asks, after blowing her nose in a tissue.

“I don’t know, sweetie. But we have to try.”

“Then let’s see if we can open it.”

They both sit and open the package. As it is revealed, Covenant’s eyes widen as he sees the lock on the leather strap. 

Flori sees his expression. He shakes his head. “What?”

“No. It couldn’t be this easy….”

“Sweetie, you’ve lost me. Didn’t you look at the thing when you found it? How did you know it was what I had?”

He looks sheepish. “I just.. had a feeling.” He looks away. She touches his cheek. 

“What is it that you see?”

“The lock. It is known as a Force-puzzle. It is given to younglings in the Temple to hone their skills. It is holding it closed.”

“Can you open it?”

He is silent, his eyes closed. She allows him time. “I don’t know, Flori. The Force and I are not exactly on good terms right now,” he says.

She moves both of her hands to his face and turns his head to hers. She kisses him gently for several moments. Finally, she breaks away. “I don’t know you very well, Bryne,” she says, “but I know Ahsoka Tano. She has faith in you. So I do, too.”

Covenant nods. He closes his eyes. Flori reaches out to him with her resonance. 

She feels the uncertainty. Uncertainty turning to resolve. The young woman’s eyes widen and tear, as she sees the puzzle vibrate. She sees the sweat break out on his forehead, then a broad smile on his face.

Flori’s eyes close as she feels the warmth rolling off of him in waves. The warmth of an ancient, arcane power - a birthright. She opens her resonance even more. His emotions flow through her, along with the strange warmth. She sobs as she realizes that she has felt this before, when she was a small child.

Before her father gave into his obsessions. This same warmth and power when he thought that she was asleep and he sat perfectly still, his eyes closed. The only difference was that the emotions had a dark, angry taste to her, unlike this bright light and warmth.

The emotions from her father had been cold, sterile. 

These tickle her consciousness with warm humor. With the respect of a teacher. The regard of students. One, a sensation of thick fur and an earnest expression.

The other, a sensation of moving towards other emotions. Towards a new relationship as they both grow.

She wants to cry out with joy as the taste from the Corellian flashes to that of another familiar presence. One that to him manifests as a blue, orange, and white radiance. She opens her eyes as all of the emotions fade to their normal frequency. She smiles gently. Covenant’s face is composed and calm.

She moves her eyes back to the book. The strap lies open, the puzzle in pieces. 

She looks back at him. The smile has returned, although rueful. “You okay?”

He opens his eyes. “Pretty good, Flori,” he says. 

“You looked so happy, Bryne. May I ask why?”

He looks down. “When I can touch the Force, on those rare occasions when I can, I get to sense Ahsoka. It is not a bond, like a Master and apprentice, but I can sense she is there.”

Flori’s eyes tear at the look on the young Corellian’s face. A look of… 

She shakes her head. _No. My words cannot do it justice._

She busies herself opening the book, to give him time to collect himself. He looks up at her puzzled expression.

It is his turn to raise his eyebrow. She looks up at him. “This is just a history of a certain Festival. A Festival that is going on now,” she says. 

“What Festival is it?”

“The Festival of the Chalice of Omri. From an old legend of the Foundation of the Home.”

She chokes. “When the _Bahlan-Ki’a_ actually served their world, rather than trying to conquer it.”

His face is grim. Flori cannot read his thoughts, but his emotions are another matter. There is a brief sensation of another Zeltron. The pain of her mind being ripped away, only for an instant. Of the light gone from those beautiful purple eyes for that instant when she awoke.

Covenant stands up. “I don’t know what this means, but I am not ready for a power-mad asshole to be looking into anything about the Benders. He takes her hand. “Come on. Let’s find Nola. Maybe the Senator.”


	13. The Junior Varsity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahsoka searches for help in an unlikely place. Sina tries to defend a patient. Dani leaves a mark.
> 
> Elsewhere, the Chalice is prepared.

The woman watches from a balcony high over the strife and unrest. The darkness of her people’s emotions roil through her as she opens her resonance. 

The warmth and light that she feels from the room behind her, for just an instant centers her. She shakes her head as it dissipates.

She looks down at the datapad in her hands. The words flash with intensity, marking a small triumph in the pain of her world.

Again, a spark of light flows through her, just as quickly gone. She moves one hand from the datapad and runs it over her face and then over her shaven, crimson skull. She sighs and turns to go deeper in to the sanctuary.

She descends an ancient, curving staircase, deeper in the building. As she does, she begins to feel the warmth again.

Warmth that is supposed to be prevalent on the Home during this Festival. The Festival of Light and Life. 

She leaves the staircase and glides down a long corridor. She pauses before a small, nondescript door. She looks down at herself, making sure that the flowing white gown is in its proper place. She allows herself a grin, as entering the room makes her always feel as if she is a brand-new acolyte. 

She walks in without knocking. She knows that the powerful woman inside has felt her emotions since she descended. She feels a warmth that is always present when she is with the woman. 

Warmth tempered with care. She bows. She senses the fond smile. 

“What news, my Caretaker?” she asks in a voice that still retains a hint of musical laughter. 

A hint from before all of the cares in the world descended on the woman’s shoulders.

“The strife and violence may be growing, my lady,” the Caretaker says. “The offworlders are growing more impatient.”

There is a ghost of a smile on the shadowy woman’s beautiful face. Her always-black eyes gaze at her with something akin to sadness. “I know, love. But I think that we may have help on this world. From other offworlders. I have felt something in the resonance that I haven’t felt since the Republic fell.” She looks away. “Since the Jedi died.”

The Caretaker nods. Her eyes narrow. “There is something else that you feel, isn’t there?” she asks. 

“You know me too well, dear. Yes. I am sure that our prodigal has returned, as well.”

“Do you want me to seek her out?”

The older woman shakes her head. “You know better than that,” she chides gently. “I can’t have the distraction. Especially if I am going to be needed.”

The Caretaker walks over to the woman standing near the fire. She pulls the woman into her arms. For a moment, they both stand there, as if there are no cares.

No threats facing their world. The woman pushes the Caretaker away, gently, after a moment. “You have something else, dear?”

The Caretaker pulls the datapad from her shawl-sporran. “The civil government has contacted me. The Zoetarch has been contacted by another government. The Alderaani have found the Manifest.”

The powerful woman raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Where?” 

“In Aldera. Apparently one of our people works for the Royal Family. She got it from her father.”

A slight smile comes over the elder’s face. “Speaking of prodigals.” She nods with satisfaction. “Dain Laken’s child. The girl.”

“Yes. Apparently she and one of her brothers were rescued from slavery a few months back.” She looks away. “The other brother didn’t survive.”

The Caretaker sees the sadness come over the her lady’s face. “What does Organa want?”

“I think they want to help us with the Empire. They and…” The Caretaker breaks off.

The Lady waits patiently. The Caretaker, the leader of a powerful order, wilts like an acolyte again under that gaze. “Other interested parties.”

The woman smiles. “I wondered if a Dragon would get his dander up.” The Caretaker tries to ignore the wistful expression. 

“Well, if they want to help us,” the older woman says, “they can give us the book. At least we won’t have to worry about would-be Benders trying to play again.” Her face darkens. “I don’t know if the Corellians and Organa can get to us in time. We may be on our own.” 

“What about the Jedi? And the other?” the Caretaker asks. 

The Lady smiles. “They may be of use to us. She is her father’s daughter, after all.”

“Go. I think it is time. Prepare for the ritual. I guess our world has need of its Chalice again. Fetch the Symbol from the sacristy,” the shadowy woman says. 

The Caretaker bows and takes the woman’s hands in hers. She reaches over and kisses her; a connection to the heart. Something that drives her people, but is sometimes denied this woman. 

As the other woman leaves, the Lady is left with her thoughts. She closes her eyes. Behind her eyelids, she sees a tiny, crimson bundle, greedily feeding at a breast.

A crimson bundle with beautiful purple eyes.

~=~=~=~=~=

Bly finishes his embrace of the last of his brothers. As he pushes the youngest away, he thinks of the thousands of brothers who have died. He picks up his bottle of ale and raises it in a silent toast. The other five mimic his move. As he finishes the bottle, a trooper walks in and whispers to one of the company commanders. There is an extended spat of low conversation. He sees the expression of the officer sharpen as he dismisses the fleshborn.

He waits expectantly. Knot takes a final sip of his _netra’gel_. “Well, that’s torn it,” he says. His eyes staring at the label on the bottle. “A tank-jockey ran over a kid in the streets.”

Bly silences the murmuring among the clones with a look. “Is the kid…?” he asks. “He was alive when they took him to the medcenter. Stane was there. She told the tanker to shoot the kid and get a move on.”

“Did he?” Bly asks darkly. “No. A Zeltie doctor stood up to him while the droids packaged the kid and got him out of there.” Knot smiles. “Apparently she put her head right up against the blaster.”

“Is she dead?”

“No,” Knot says. “The tanker stood down. But Stane later shot him when she heard that neither the kid nor the doctor were ended.”

All of the brothers are silent for several moments. “There is more,” Knot says. There are thousands of Zelties in the streets. They are definitely not fucking each other or dancing. They are just standing there, silent-like.”

“Then I guess we are going to start slaughtering them,” Bly says. 

“Not so far. The trooper said that the air feels weird. Not the joy that is coming from them. The troops are uneasy.” He stares at his Major. “Stane has ordered the rounding up of hostages to disperse the crowd.”

“Alright,” Bly says. “Let’s get out there and see if we can control the situation,” he says. 

“Wow. Such bravery in the face of evil. It almost makes me think you aren’t a murdering bastard.”

All of the brothers whirl at the young voice. A voice that cuts through Bly’s memory. 

Ahsoka Tano stands in the door. She drops the unconscious trooper that she is holding on the floor. Blasters start to come up. She crosses her arms and looks at them. Her blue eyes flash. The brown and white scarf that normally covers her montrals and lekku is down around her throat.

The troopers stare at her. Their eyes take in the two lightsabers on her hips and the two blasters under her arms.

Blue painted DC-17s. Twin clone blasters, much like Bly had once carried, but now only has one left.

“She’s a Jedi,” Knot shouts. All of them feel the familiar tingling in their heads. A mantra repeated.

A mantra repeated in a muted whisper, rather than the shouting that they had heard on that night, many years ago.

Bly moves and stands in front of her. “No. Brothers. Stand down. I know Commander Tano. She is here to try to…”

“No. I am here to end anyone who tries to harm any on this world.” The blasters rise again. Bly’s eyes widen. He can feel more than just the battle-joy that he had felt from this young woman on Maridun as she fought to defend the pacifist rolling furballs. To defend her Master and her brothers.

His General.

He feels the anger rolling off of her in waves. “That doesn’t sound like the Jedi that I knew,” he says. 

“Maybe the Emperor was right about the Jedi. They were all traitors,” Knot says. The murmuring from his _Vode_ starts again. 

“Quiet,” Bly says. 

“I haven’t been a Jedi in years. The Jedi abandoned me just like they did you,” she says. She shakes her head. Bly sees the sad expression grow over her features. It is fleeting, gone. Replaced by one of resolve. “I came here to try to convince you to help me fight this. You all can see that this is wrong. I can’t believe that you are still following a regime that is abandoning you all like so much discarded meat.”

The murmur starts again, this time more angrily. Bly fights the urge as his pistol starts to come up. Her hands drop to her sabers. “Don’t, Bly,” she says. “You know what I can do.”

“I don’t know why we should listen to you. You abandoned the 501st. Hell, some people say that you murdered several brothers,” a captain says.

Her hands drop from her hips. The troopers see her look down. For a moment, they see a different look from the building anger on her features. 

_Shame._

The look is fleeting. “I never murdered my brothers,” she whispers. “I loved them.” She looks up, takes them all in. “Just like I love you all. Just like I loved the ones that I had to kill when they tried to end me on Mandalore.”

The raw words cut through them all. Blasters are lowered. 

“You’re right,” she says after a moment. “I did run from the Jedi. To my everlasting shame.”

Gooder speaks up. “Seems like we all have done things we are ashamed of, Commander,” he says. 

There is silence as they contemplate the past, with its memories. Bly sees hazel eyes fixing, as the light went out of them. “Ahsoka,” he says. “I told you. You shouldn’t be around us. We can’t really control what we are doing. Right now, our bodies and minds are calling for all of us to riddle you with blaster bolts. Please get out of here.”

She shakes her head. “I can handle myself, _Vod_ ,” she says. “I need you to try to help me bring order to this chaos. This world has given me a sense of overwhelming joy and light that I haven’t felt in a long time, that I didn’t think existed in the universe anymore. I won’t see it snuffed out.”

“I know,” Knot says. “I felt their joy, as well. I could almost touch it. Now I only feel fear again.”

She nods. “Help me,” she says quietly. 

“I don’t know what we can do, Ahsoka,” Bly says. “I won’t sacrifice these brothers. Not for anything. Not even for you,”

She nods. “Then I can’t vouch for what will happen, Bly.”

One of the officers, one whose name Ahsoka doesn’t know, lifts his fingers to his earpiece. He looks at Bly and the ex-Jedi. “Troopers have been ordered to the medcenter. To arrest the doctor who stood up to Stane. As well as to terminate the kid.”

Bly feels the anger rise from the young woman again. She starts to turn away. She stops as she feels his hand touching her arm. “Go see about the doctor and the hostages. They will take her to the square with others.” He looks at his brothers. He makes a decision. “We will get the boy out of the medcenter. That is all that we can do.”

Ahsoka looks at the others. After a moment, they nod. 

“Okay. Be careful.” She places her hand over Bly’s. “I still love you all,” she says.

Bly looks at her. “Try to stay away from us, Tano. We are still not ourselves. And Ahsoka,” he says, looking into her eyes. “You need to calm the anger, yourself. I know what that can mean for a Jedi. We all can feel the rage coming from you. Some of it is healthy. But it won’t help you.”

He drops his hand. “Try not to slice us, little girl,” he says with a grin. 

“Try not to shoot me in the back, hardhead,” she replies, with one of her own.

She turns and is gone. He turns to his brothers. “Are you with me?”

There are nods all around. 

~=~=~=~=~=

Sina Faygan’ii walks out of the medcenter room. She pulls the sterile cap from her short hair and sits for a moment in the hall. She slumps, and places her face in her hands. After a moment, she knuckles her eyes from the fatigue. She smiles to herself. _I think I have earned a little bit of a dance with Dani’s friend. If I can get her to get over herself long enough for an orgasm._

Her face grows grim at what had brought the fatigue on. An hours-long fight to save the leg of a small child. The first Zeltron victim of the occupation. Her eyes grow dark with emotion, as she thinks of having to tell the parents that she had saved the child, but he had lost the leg. 

They had not wanted to listen to her platitudes. She had only seen the anger in the father’s eyes. The questions in the mother’s.

_Why? Why had the Imperials come?_

She shakes her head and stands. As she does, a gloved hand grabs her arm. “Hello, dear,” the woman’s voice snarls. “Thought that we had forgotten you didn’t you.” She stares into a single blue eye in an olive-green face.

“You have no right. I am a doctor, protecting a patient…”

“Spare me, dear. You are a traitor to the Empire,” the Mirialan says. “We are taking you to the square, where you will wait with other traitors, as a guarantee of your misbegotten race’s good behavior.”

“But first, we have a couple of pieces of unfinished business.” She turns to the uniformed Imperial. “Find the child from the street. Kill it, as I ordered the first time. Make sure that the parents watch.” The officer nods and directs two troopers to the room where Sina had come from. 

“You murdering bitch,” Sina says. 

Her head snaps back from a blow. Before she can react, Stane punches her in the stomach. “That was our second piece of unfinished business, dear.” She lifts Sina’s face from where she is doubled over. Blood streams from the doctor’s nose. “Perhaps before this is over, we can have a little fun. Take her away.”

Sina can only watch helplessly as the woman turns and walks towards the entrance of the medcenter. She closes her eyes as the troopers bind her hands and begin to drag her down the hall. 

She can feel the despair and pain in her resonance as the nurses and other doctors watch her, unable to do anything.

She screams as she hears the crash of blasterfire from the boy’s room.

~=~=~=~=~=

Tori Laken checks the several grenades in the small bag. He turns to the assembled fighters. Their numbers had grown to about a dozen, since the incident with the child. _Desperation breeds chaos._

“All right. We are all set. We all have grenades. I will lead the first group to attack the Imperial center. The rest of you will attack the shuttles on the landing field. I want them all useless. I will concentrate on the reserves of the armor and killing as many troopers as I can. Any questions?”

“Yeah. I got one,” comes a warm alto from the rear. Warm, but laced with steel. “How the hell do you think that this little ragtag band can put a dent in fifteen hundred stormtroopers, plus the garrison?”

Daaineran Faygan stands there, still dressed in her festival garb. His eyes match hers in thunder. He jerks his head at the others. “Go on. I’ll deal with this Corellian bastard.”

As the others file out, anxious to get away from the feelings of anger rolling off of both of them. He looks her up and down. His lips quirk with memory. “Don’t see a blaster anywhere on you. Were you hoping to kriff me again to stop me?”

“No. Tried that,” she says as closes the distance. With one swift motion, she spins and kicks him in the jaw. He stumbles back in surprise. “What the hell, Faygan?” he says. 

“Guess I had to speak the only language that an idiot like you could understand, asshole.” she says. 

“You fucking traitor,” he says. He moves to grab her, but she slips under his grip and punches him on the other side of his jaw. “Get the hell out of here, Tori. I am going to give you a chance. I don’t think Fulcrum will, after what we saw on the street.”

“That wasn’t my fault. The Imperials did that. We are going to avenge him,” Laken says.

Dani explodes, both with her words, and fists and feet. The younger man reels backwards under the rain of the blows and anger. “You just don’t get it. Zeltros is not the place to start this crap. It is peaceful. There was always a resistance here. This place was an intelligence bonanza, with all of the bigwigs that came here. You have probably fucking ruined that, because the Imperials are cracking down hard. Nobody will want to come here after they get through.”

She sees his eyes widen with realization. He tries to grab her hands. They are moving too fast. He makes a decision. He manages to grab a blaster from the table near a storage closet. 

He screams as a small hidden blade, wielded in the CorSec officer’s small right hand slices his arm. He manages to switch the blaster to the other hand.

His scream rises in pitch as Dani’s small punch knife, held in her fist, slices down and across his handsome face.

His finger finds the trigger of the blaster.


	14. The Varsity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahsoka confronts her darkness, with help from Dani. Sina helps her people escape.

The masses of Imperial troops move out in the city. A broadcast from a loudspeaker cuts through the early evening’s air. “Everyone off of the streets. We are arresting anyone that gives resistance. No more public gatherings of more than three people. Everyone off of the streets.”

Cries also punctuate the air. Not the kind that usually sound during the Festival.

Ahsoka Tano watches through her macrobinoculars. Anyone of her kind would feel the anger rolling off of her in waves. She forgets Bly’s admonition as she sees several groups of men, women, and children, all in the light festival-wear of skirts, kilts, and shawls being shoved towards a sheltered portion of the square.

Her eyes narrow as they lock on one Zeltron in particular. They widen as she sees his bleeding and panicked face. Without a word, she replaces her binocs on her thigh and turns to the rear of the roof. She looks around and pulls her scarf up over her montrals. She leaps to the alley way.

The sound of an explosion shatters the night. Ahsoka stops as silence falls where there had been a cacophony of noise.

A new sound punctuates the air. Several blasterbolts can be heard in the square. She increases her speed.

Fulcrum rounds the corner and comes face to face with Tori Laken. Her hard blue eyes take in his bleeding face, as well as his other wounds.

She sees tears on his face. “See what you have brought, here, Tori?” she asks. She allows more than a hint of menace to flow to her voice.

He slumps against the wall of the alley and slides to the ground. “I know. Dani told me about what was already going on here on the Home, about its importance to the movement.”

In spite of herself, in spite of her anger, she crouches beside him. She pulls some of the bacta pads from her pouch, and begins to clean his facial wound. He does not help, merely sits there.

She stops for a moment. “Dani? When did you see her? Did she give you this?”

He nods. “She was punching me. She just kept punching me while telling me all of this,” he says. “She hits hard.” Ahsoka smiles knowingly at that. “I made a mistake. I grabbed a blaster.”

“She grabbed one of her knives, didn’t she?” Ahsoka asks.

“Yeah. She cut me. I didn’t think she would react that way.”

He looks down as Ahsoka waits patiently. “I stunned her. She went down. I dropped the blaster and ran.”

Ahsoka fights the anger as she waits. “Where is she?” she says, the menace returning.

“I left her in our last safehouse. I came here to try and stop my cadre from carrying out the attacks. To try not to add to the situation.”

Ahsoka is quiet for a moment. “Yeah, well, you should’ve thought about that before, boy,” she says. “I will take care of your cadre. This is what you are going to do. You are going to leave here. You are going to get out of my sight. If I ever see you around any cell again, it will not end well for you.

His eyes tear. “I am sorry, Ahsoka…,” he starts.

“Don’t want to hear it, Tori. It is only because of your sister that I don’t leave you here with your guts on the ground. You have interfered with my job for the last time.”

“You don’t understand, Ahsoka. I am not sorry for fighting the Empire. I am sorry for leaving Dani in that house. Just as the Imperials were entering it to search it.”

Her anger grows. She cannot speak. Without another word, she turns and begins to sprint in the direction of that last safehouse. A location Sina had given her earlier.

~=~=~=~=~=

Draq’ Bel Iblis sits calmly as he listens to his nephew outline what he had found in the book that he and the young Zeltron had found. “….apparently the book itself is not that important. It is mainly a history of the _Bahlan-Ki’a._ ”

Bryne stops and looks at Flori Laken. She looks as she is about to turn and run.

Draq’ smiles. “Go ahead, dear. Even though we may all look like it, we will not bite or burn you.” He smirks. “Except maybe Nola. I can’t vouch for her. We all have scars from the Hand of the Queen. Even the Queen.”

The Hand of the Queen punches Draq’ in his arm. She softens the blow with a smile for Flori. “Go ahead, sweetie,” she says.

Flori takes a deep breath. “We all thought that the Benders were a proscribed group. That they were murderers. That is true in the last two millennia. But before that, they were the protectors of the Home. The guardians of the Chalice of _Omri_.”

The other four people listen intently. “But, like a lot of groups who proclaim the good, they became corrupt. They begin to use their authority to foster tyranny and murder with their powers.” She sees Bryne turn and walk to the window. Draq’ can see his troubled look.

Well, that doesn’t sound familiar, Draq’ thinks.

“Until one of their number used the Chalice to defeat them. Apparently the Chalice is an object of great power.”

Nola speaks for all of them. “Does the book give a location of the Chalice, or what it looks like?”

“No. It just outlines how it was used.”

They are quiet. “Well, we know what the Imps want on Zeltros,” Nola says.

“Yeah,” says Bryne, his eyes thoughtful. “Or at least one of them, according to Kolan.”

“Does Kolan know any of this?” Draq’ asks. They all look at Bryne.

“Why is everybody looking at me?” he asks, a defensive tone in his voice.

“Oh, no reason,” Draq’ says with a grin.

Bryne shakes his head. “No. He doesn’t. I vote that we don’t tell him, at least about the power.”

Bail Organa nods. “I agree. But, I think that we might be able to use Kolan to take out Poldar. With the right persuasion.”

Again, the focus is on Covenant. He rolls his eyes. He sighs. “Alright. I’ll figure out a way to point him in the right direction.”

“I think that we should try to get the Manifest back to the Home. In spite of the Imperials,” Flori says quietly.

Bail, Nola, and Draq’ look at one another. Bryne and Nola smile at the young woman. Bail stands up and walks over to Flori. He places his hands on her shoulders. Draq’ is struck by the tenderness in the gesture. But not surprised.

“I know that this has been hard for you. Are you sure that you want to give up your Father’s book?” he asks gently.

After a moment, she nods. “Yes, Senator,” the young woman, barely more than a girl, says. “My father took it from our world. I don’t know what his motivations were. I don’t really want to know. All I know is that it should be on my world.”

Bail nods. “I don’t want to lose you, Flori. You make Leia very happy, while teaching her many things. Sabe’ says that you are doing well in your other training,” he says with a grin.

The others laugh at the thought of what that ‘training’ might entail.

In his mind, Draq’ sees the young woman’s blue eyes sighting on a blaster target.

“I know, Senator,” Flori says. “I am just glad that you will take me back after all of   
this.”

“Always, Flori.” His face darkens. “The Queen has taken it upon herself to initiate a relief mission to Zeltros. She has received permission from the Senate, without, I should say, my assistance,” he says dryly. “The _Sundered Heart_ is on the pad. You and Nola may go with the Queen to Zeltros.” He looks at the Hand. “Your Grace, I charge you with returning the property of Zeltros to the legitimate Zeltron head of government and State, the Zoetarch and the Capitoline Council. We have received permission from the Senate, but not the Imperial authorities.” He turns his gaze on Covenant for a second. “Agent Kolan is working on that. He thinks it is a good idea. But,” he says. “I would like more protection for the relief group.”

Draq’ nods as Bail glances at him. “I think Corellia can help. At least for another three months.”

Bryne looks at him. “Uncle…,” he starts.

The Dragon closes his eyes. He suddenly feels eons older. “I think that it will be time for one last Gathering for the Rangers.”

Draq’ sees the Covenant of Corellia’s eyes narrow as he meets his gaze. “The Diktat, under pressure from the Imperial advisor has ordered the Rangers to be disbanded. All of them will be reassigned to normal CorSec duties.”

The old man tries to suppress the waves of sadness coming off of him. Flori walks over to him and sits next to him. She lays her head on his shoulder and pulls him close. He rests his head against hers as he looks up at his nephew. “The Chief Ranger slot has been vacant. I had gotten permission to fill it before this came down.” Flori’s eyes widen as she sees the tears in the Draq’s eyes—tears he is unable to suppress. “I was going to fill it with you, Jame,” he whispers. “Still might.”

The others start at the name, but turn away. Bryne holds his uncle’s gaze, his features running the gamut between sadness and anger.

Draq’ calms. He turns and smiles as he sees Flori’s eyes open and the comfort version of the resonance lessens. “I wish you could go to Zeltros with them, Bryne, but you need to stay here with Trigger on this end.”

Covenant nods. “I know, Uncle. It wasn’t meant to be.” He grins. “But I need to find another job. I don’t know if I am cut out to be a cop.”

Draq’s nephew turns and looks at Nola. She rises and pulls him into her arms. Draq’s sees his eyes widen as he looks down at her vacant left hand—that no cane supports her walk. “Guess a little bit of a scrap showed me that I ain’t dead. That and a little ass-kicking from a huntress,” she says at their looks.

His expression turns wistful. “I know. That is what usually works on me.” He grins. “She has had a lot of practice in the last few months.”

Flori has risen, after giving the old Dragon a quick kiss on the cheek. She walks over next to Nola. She disengages from Bryne. She reaches up and mirror’s Flori’s gesture on his cheek.

Bail Organa watches something pass between them as Nola turns to leave. He is not sure what it is, but is certain that it has something to do with the Fulcrum of his movement that they both alternately worry about and are awed with. As well as something between themselves.

He walks over to Covenant. “I could deal with Kolan, Bryne,” Bail says “You could go with them.”

For half a second, Bryne looks as if he is considering following them. He shakes his head. “No, sir. Fulcrum has to do what she does.” He turns to exit. “As do I,” he finishes.

Bail turns to Draq’. He sits as he sees the Dragon’s blue eyes locked on his drink. His eyes are focused on the past.

~=~=~=~=~=

The Dragon of Corellia lies in the bed, his arms filled with warm Zeltron. The young woman’s eyes are gradually transitioning to their medium-amber as the Corellian’s breathing slows.

She reaches up and kisses him. “I think that this has been the best visiting delegation from Headquarters of my career,” she says. He smiles and returns her kiss. His eyes widen as he sees the devilish expression forming. “At least in the top ten,” she finishes. Her musical laughter rises in pitch as his tongue seeks a spot under her breasts.

As they calm, she pulls herself on top of him and lays her head on his chest. He grins as he feels her lips moving as she counts his heartbeats. He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it. She smiles against his skin. As she does, he marvels at the contrast of her crimson skin and his tan, but paler skin. He lets his nose rest in her blue hair, as he seeks his courage.

“Alyys, I have to go back to Corellia. Since Styn gave up the Electoral Signet and the Chain, the Five Brothers are in chaos. The Electoral Council has asked me to be the Chair, to try to bring stability.”

He can feel her body tense, her fear flowing through her resonance. “I need to get back for Garm, as well. I need to reach out to him, or I am going to lose him.”

She is silent. “I don’t want to ask you to leave your home or your family. I know they are important to you. But you have grown important to me as well. I…..” He stops. “That is selfish of me.”

Alyysina reaches up and places her finger on his lips. “It would be just as selfish of me to ask you to stay here, love,” she whispers.

“I know what your world means to you, Draq’,” she continues. “But I cannot go with you. I have a responsibility to Zeltros. I can’t tell you what, but it involves my world’s future as well. I only have an inkling in the resonance.”

He nods, his eyes sad. They are both silent, each with their own thoughts. Draq’ thinks of how her warmth has cracked his frozen heart in the last three months.

Alyys thinks of how their love for one another is tested by their love of their worlds, as love struggles with duty.

~=~=~=~=~=

Draq’ Bel Iblis’s eyes start as he realizes that he is alone. He sets his now empty glass down. His left hand automatically goes to a small ring on his right hand. A silver ring with a representation of a long, drinking goblet in gold on it.

He rubs it absently, thinking of another young Zeltron. His life.

~=~=~=~=~=

Sina Faygan’ii, medical doctor and namesake of a loving aunt, walks with her head held high. The Mirialan had left her and her escorts soon after they had left the medcenter. She tries to shake the sound of blasterfire from her mind, as she thinks of the boy’s last moments.

A boy that she had fought for hours to save. A life now snuffed out by these invaders. She sends the grief and anger way from her mind. She looks at the two Fleet troopers, a man and a woman, part of the original garrison who are escorting her to the square. They had taken her from the stormtroopers who had placed the binders on her. She smiles as she opens her resonance. _Too bad I am not in festival-wear, rather than this medical tunic. I could really give them a show._

Apparently the fear of the Mirialan psychopath outweighs any interest they might have in her. She sighs. Her eyes widen as she sees other Zeltrons of all ages being herded into the offset of the main square. She smiles as she sees that only a few troopers are on guard, as the ones bringing the prisoners, depart for more prisoners.

Her two troopers shove her into the natural enclosure, but not before they both allow their hands to run over her body. She smiles. _It worked a little bit_. As she looks all around for an escape method, she continues to focus the resonance on them.

She remembers playing in this shelter as a child, with Dani. Something tickles at her memory. A hidden door that Dani had found, allowing her to double back and scare her older cousin. She notices that the two fleet troopers have gone off somewhere. She smiles.

Sina moves her hands up to her blue-with-brown-streaked hair. She pulls a small pin from the front of the cropped mass. _Maybe they shouldn’t have cuffed me in front. Good thing Snork taught me a few things from her misspent college years on Corellia._

She sends a silent prayer that her cousin is whole and healthy. As well as the beautiful warrior that Sina had helped heal.

~=~=~=~=~=

Dani Faygan tries to clear her head as two stormtroopers drag her clear of the house. She had awoken after a deluge of water had been poured over her head. A uniformed junior officer, a garrison member, stands over her with a smirk as Dani chokes and coughs. “Hello,” she says. “Apparently you are in the wrong place at the right time.” Her look hardens. “At least for us.”

Her protests of innocence fall on deaf audio sensors on the buckets. _Of course, the fact that I had a blaster and a couple of punch knives might not make me believe me either._

Her eyes narrow as she sees the knives and the blaster stuck in the officer’s belt. She shakes her head again. The fuzz diminishes, but doesn’t disappear.

She begins to pick her feet up as they approach the square. Her resonance is assaulted by a feeling of raw fear from the square. The fear of dozens of her people.

She smiles. Fear. Backed up by resolve and no small amount of anger.

She looks up as the two stormtroopers stop.

Dani smiles as she sees the tall figure standing, blocking the alley to the square. Her eyes widen and focus as she sees that the scarf is down. Her jacket is off, the blasters and lightsabers visible, as well as her powerful arms. Dani’s heart leaps with memory. Memory of another huntress, standing purposefully in the path of darkness. Her eyes tear at the memory of her heart-bond.

Her face grows grim as she feels the roiling anger from the younger huntress. Dani involuntarily gasps a word. The troopers have stopped and stiffened. They begin to move as if in slow motion. The young Togruta’s hands reach out. She feels the trooper’s hands move off of her arms.

And fly backward. She hears the sickening crunch of their armor against the nearest wall and then together as the ex-Jedi pulls her hands back and then together. The young officer’s hand moves towards her own blaster. Dani sees the trademark Smirk on Ahsoka’s face, as her hand flashes again. Dani’s grin matches the huntress’s as she feels the binders fall from her hand.

She covers the ground to the officer in a half-second. The Imperial spins as she hears.

Her head reels from Dani’s right cross. She collapses.

She looks at Ahsoka. They are not sure who leaps into the other’s arms, holding each other tightly. “You were magnificent,” Dani says. “You remind me….” She stops. Ahsoka looks at her curiously. Dani shakes her head, her eyes closing for a moment.

Ahsoka allows the silence. “You weren’t so bad yourself, sweetie,” she says, gently pushing the Zeltron away.

The two women look into each other’s eyes for a moment. Their hands move to each other’s faces. Dani stands on her tiptoes and reaches up. Her lips touch Ahsoka’s. Ahsoka feels a gentle touch of a tongue against hers.

Their foreheads touch. “I think you should give up on that stupid-ass bet, girl,” Dani says.

Ahsoka’s blue eyes narrow. “What the hell are you talking about? I don’t know what you’re talking about. How the hell…?” The words come in a staccato beat before fading away.

Dani smiles. “Maybe you shouldn’t have told Nola. Even now, certain things are being put into motion to, ahh, ensure that your hunt-brother and you don’t fulfill the bet.”

“And who would be doing the ensuring?” Ahsoka asks dryly.

“Well, anyone on Alderaan. Nola. Meglann. We might have even thrown Kolan at him. Just as I have thrown my world at you.”

“I am sure that the Queen might have something to say about her Hand taking up so much of her time….”

The crimson fingers stop her words. “Who the hell do you think came up with the whole idea?” Ahsoka slumps and pushes Dani away.

Her eyes grow steely. “Nope. Not going to play. Unless Covenant has already kriffed somebody, then I am going to resist.”

Dani smirks. “I am sure that my cousin is going to disagree with your assessment of how much you have resisted,” she says.

Ahsoka’s eyes grow thunderous. “That was a medical procedure. Nothing happened.”

“Not from what I saw.”

Ahsoka closes her eyes.

“And felt.”

The blue windows snap open. The eyes track down Dani’s body. She smiles appreciatively. Her hands reach out and cup. “As much as I am loving seeing these on display, I think you might want to cover them up a bit.”

Dani gasps and feels her stomach lurch when Ahsoka’s thumbs move over the hard tips. After a moment, Dani turns and bends down. Ahsoka grins as the Zeltron yanks the Imperial’s tunic off of the limp figure.

As she changes, they hear a familiar and unwelcome voice over the officer’s comm. “The insurgents have injured our comrades in a tank. Execute the hostages,” the voice says. A voice last heard by Ahsoka in the airlock of a starliner.

The two women look at one another. They nod in silent communication. “Go get the hostages out. I think that Leve Stane needs to be ended,” Ahsoka says.

Dani stops her. “Maybe so, Ahsoka.” Her eyes tear with….something. “But let go of your anger. I have known Jedi. Not just Taliesin.”

Ahsoka’s eyes widen at the mention of the former name of her hunt-brother. “I loved one, once,” the older woman whispers.

“Dani….”

“Your anger will destroy you, my huntress,” she says. Ahsoka feels as if Dani is speaking to someone else. Ahsoka feels a powerful pressure on her being, as Dani places her hands on the warrior’s temples and lekku. Her thumbs center on the diamond-shaped markings on the orange forehead.

The pressure morphs into warmth. Into comfort. Dani’s eyes are now pure black with emotion. “Taliesin would never forgive me, if I let you go to the darkness like this,” sounds in her head.

Ahsoka calms as the young Zeltron, now dressed in the full Imperial tunic, trousers, and boots, kisses her again.

A kiss that cuts through to her heart, rather than the body, along with the resonance. “Go with the good fortune of the Omri and the Force,” Dani says, “ _ta’in-gere._ ”

She doesn’t vocalize the Basic translation.

_Sister of the heart._

Ahsoka turns, her emotions and her Force-sense suddenly calm.

 


	15. Bringing a Knife to a Force Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontation

Sina Faygan’ii allows the binders to remain on her hands as she clears the lock with the hairpin. She walks over to the corner that Dani had found in their youth. She catches the eye of another hostage. The man smiles and pulls his wife into an embrace, their hands playing over one another’s skin in their festival garb. She sees the few remaining guards focus on the pair.

The resonances from her fellow captives warms her as she plays her hands over the corner. Sina smiles softly as her nails find the minute, regular crack in the stone.

_Now to figure out how Snork got this damned thing open._ Sina’s heart leaps as she thinks of her cousin and their childhood. An idyllic one, in spite of the hole in Dani’s heart from the loss of her mother. 

From her mother leaving her. For the duty to her world. She shakes the darker memories away, remembering their nicknames for each other. 

She debates about telling Ahsoka the origin of the name.

Sina’s eyes widen as she feels the familiar warmth in her resonance of her younger cousin. She turns as Dani places her hand on her shoulder. “Hello, Doof,” she says, her purple eyes sparkling. “Allow me.” 

“Okay, Snork,” she says. “You’re the one that got us in deep poodoo with my dad,” she says. 

“Well, Snork usually did on the show,” Dani replies with a grin. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask if you have outgrown the other reason that I called you that.”

“I’ll never tell,” her cousin replies. “Of course, you seem to be led easily. Just like Doof the Wookiee.”

The portal opens at Dani’s specific pressure on a specific spot. She turns and sees that the guards have all left. The two cousins smile at each other and motion to the other hostages. “Come on! Hurry. They won’t be entertaining each other much longer,” Dani says. She turns to Sina. “Lead’em out of here, Doof,” she says.

“But….,” Sina starts. Her face takes on a familiar, stubborn expression. “I won’t. I won’t lose you, love,” she says. “I lost a patient to these assholes already….” 

Dani places her finger on Sina’s lips. “No, you didn’t.” She smiles. “Ahsoka arranged for him to escape with his family. Seems our huntress has made an impression on some of the troops.”

Sina looks down, momentarily overcome with relief. Dani takes advantage to shove her through the opening. She turns and looks at her cousin as she is swept with the crowd of former hostages. Her eyes tear as she sees Dani blow a kiss at her. 

She feels a twinge of doubt. Doubt that she will see the warrior again. A warrior just as powerful as the other in her own way. 

_Either of her warriors._

Dani herds the remainder of the hostages through the exit. She turns. Her eyes widen as she sees a small girl, her fists in her eyes as she cries.

Dani turns her body full on to grab the child, as the last of the hostages escapes. As she turns, she closes the door to the tunnel. 

She feels the cold metal of a blaster against her head. Two stormtroopers seize the girl.

_I’m sorry, Ahsoka,_ she thinks as she closes her eyes. In her mind, she sees the violet eyes of another huntress gazing at her, worry evident in those orbs.

~=~=~=~=~=

Leve Stane clicks off her comm. _There. That should do it_. She smiles with anticipation. The joy of chaos. Something that has motivated her ever since she realized that she could kill people, enjoy it, and make money at it.

She had never cared about the cause. It had been what had drawn her to Dooku and his Separatists. There had been idealists, for sure, who had joined the cause to protest the Republic’s corruption, but Dooku had never paid more than lip service to the cause. She had sensed a kindred spirit in that he only wanted to sow chaos through the galaxy as a whole.

Even when he had nearly taken her head for a perceived failure. For a perceived failure on the Separatist capital world, Raxus. When her Security forces had failed to stop a Republic Jedi and commando incursion, causing damage to the Confederacy military headquarters, as well as the loss of an important military secret.

She continues to smile. This should make Antol happy. Zeltros will be further pacified and safe from rebel insurgency.

_Why else would she chose me, if she didn’t want chaos?_ Leve thinks of her own endgame. Imperial oppression of this magnitude, on a world that really didn’t need it, might bring out her own quartet of do-gooders to either avenge it, protest it, or try to circumvent it. She repeats the mantra in her mind. _Jana Roshti. Riyo Chuchi. Dani Faygan. Bryne Covenant.  
_

She can only hope that her chaos will draw them out before Leeza Antol decides to explode the little surprise in her brain.

Leve remembers the looks on the faces of her family on Mirial when they realized what she was. When the first signs of unrestrained violence and mayhem had manifested themselves.

Of the look on a Jedi’s face, a calm face, similar to her own as she had realized what had been discovered on her homeworld. She remembers Luminara Unduli’s measured tones as she had instructed her parents on possible treatments.

Of the look on a former Jedi’s face, as his path brought him to Mirial. Of the smile on the same former Jedi’s face as he realized the treasure that he had discovered on the peaceful world.

A treasure that unknown to the young woman, would fit in well with his new Master’s plans. Plans for chaos and darkness.

Leve shakes herself from her reverie. She realizes that she has not heard the blasterfire or resultant screams of the deaths of dozens of these animals.

She curses as she picks her up her comm. She feels a draft of air directly behind her. “You just can’t get good help these days, can you, darling?” 

She whirls at the high, clear voice. A voice she had last heard on a starliner in the Corporate Sector. 

Jana Roshti, the first name on her mantra, stands directly in front of her. Leve scrambles for her blaster when her head snaps back from the Togruta’s fist.

A blow that is more powerful than her slender, but muscular frame indicates is possible.

~=~=~=~=~=

Bly watches as the mother and father hold the boy close to each other, the gratitude raw on their face. For a brief moment, the gratitude of the mother and father reminds Bly of what he and his brothers once fought for, rather than ‘order.’

When they fought for laws that took sentient beings into account. His face darkens. _Sentient beings other than he and his brothers._

Bly remembers the look of fear on the parent’s face as he and Gooder walked into their room. He had pulled his bucket off and put his fingers to his lips. “I need you to do something. Please remain calm. I know that you are afraid, but we have to convince someone that we have killed the boy,” he had said. “Or none of us will survive.”

The mother and father had nodded after only a microsecond.

Gooder had disconnected the boy from the monitors and lifted him up as Bly had held both of their carbines. As soon as Gooder cleared the bed, Bly had opened fire on the bed with both blasters. Both parents had screamed as the bolts had torn into the empty bed. The heavily sedated boy had slept on. 

As they had moved out of the medcenter through the back way, both Gooder and Bly, as well as the other four that had joined them had started to feel the pain around the edges of their consciousness.

The same pain that had been present for nearly five years. Present when they remembered the night of nights.

The pain that made them envious of their brothers who were ‘marching far away.’

As the Zeltron family moves off into the early twilight, Bly and his remaining brothers crumple to the ground. The pain sharpens. Bly and the others fight to their feet.

All except Gooder and Till. The oldest and the youngest of his brothers. Knot and Bly yank the two clones’ buckets from their heads. Their faces are contorted in pain. Bly can barely see his other brothers through the red haze. He feels his world tilt again.

He sees hazel eyes and blue skin flashing through the red. Blue bolts of energy dissipate the red haze, if only for a moment. 

He hears a voice cutting through the screaming in his mind. “Commander!” the distant voice says. “Commander! Bly!” 

There is silence as their brains mute the screaming. The red haze, however, remains. Bly realizes that Towner and Rene, the other Captains, look down at him. 

Both pull him to his feet. Knot and Bly in turn pull Gooder and Till to their feet. The pain is still evident on all of their faces. 

He realizes that the distant voice had a distinctive Ryl accent.

Another voice, with a hissing sibilance, intones the mantra that they have been dreading, since they had agreed to help Commander Tano.

_Good soldiers follow orders._

~=~=~=~=~=

Leve Stane’s head reels from the second blow from the Togruta, Jana Roshti. Stane manages to kick out and connect with the woman’s knee, but the woman still spins on the opposite leg and connects with her head. Stane shakes her head from the kick. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the woman lean over and grimace from the pain in her knee.

Stane takes the slight respite, allowing her to assess the spy more thoroughly than their last encounter. On the starliner, she had felt the beginnings of lust as her finger had crept towards the sabacc player’s center in the pleasure alcove. Just before her husband had put a blaster to the woman’s head, revealing how she had stolen vital information from their employers, the Corporate Sector Authority. Another excitement had crept towards her center as she realized that murder would be imminent.

She realizes how close they had both come to death or serious injury as she witnesses the power. She had thought that she was seducing the younger woman.

She smiles, letting her eyes search for the blaster that she had dropped when the woman’s first powerful blow had moved her jaw to the next planet over. “So, my dear. It is a pity that I didn’t get to finish my exploration of your quim on that starliner. I am sure that you would’ve been delicious.” She sees the young woman start, just for an instant. 

_Okay my darling. I can distract you._ She sees the startled expression turn into a dangerous Smirk. 

An expression that the fighter appears to have had a great deal of practice at using. “Well, dear, I was enjoying our little time together. But you and your psychopathic boyfriend’s idea of foreplay differed from my own. Didn’t exactly make me wet to be kneeling in an airlock with a knife to my throat.”

Stane’s anger rises. “He was not my ‘boyfriend’ as you said, bitch,” she says, “he was my husband. We had spoken the words.” As she finishes, she charges the young woman. Her angry voice telegraphs the charge, but not her true intentions, as the knife that she pulls from a hidden sheath in the back of her belt that her hand had inched toward, manages to score a slice on the woman’s ribs. 

Leve feels a lance of pain along her own side that cuts through her mind. She looks down and sees a large blade, buried in her own ribs. She slashes again with her own blade, managing to just miss slashing the Togruta’s orange and white face.

Roshti brings her shoulder up on the flat of the Mirialan’s blade, the pain of the stabbing and the deflection causing Leve to drop the blade.

She realizes that the woman’s blade, a Togruta hunting knife, crafted with care, is no longer in her ribs and that the wound is not as deep as she had first thought.

The blade, like hers, is no longer in her opponent’s hands. She sees the woman run her fingers along her own ribs, the long fingers coming up covered in her own blood. Leve tries to catch her breath, but the sharp pain in her side makes it more difficult. She realizes that the blade had managed to break a rib, as she feels it sticking in vitals, in addition to the wound. 

Leve Stane realizes for the first time in her life that she may lose this battle. The power of the woman to break a rib with a glancing knife blow becomes apparent. She realizes that there may be deeper forces at work with the woman. She looks at the woman’s hips. They are covered with a wide brown and white wrap. She can just manage to see outlines of _something_ on the belt. The woman has not touched the blasters under her arms.

Leve’s anger grows. _She is toying with me._

It never crosses her mind that it is not in the woman’s character to merely draw the weapons and end her. She also doesn’t see that the anger that had permeated the woman’s heart and body just twenty minutes before might have ended the fight sooner. She doesn’t realize that the warmth, the comfort, and the compassion of another had shown the warrior back to her path. 

Leve lets her own anger flow. She smiles. “You know that pretty Pantoran wife of yours? After you left, she was begging me to pleasure her. In public.” The young woman does not rise. “Tell, me, Jana. Were you such a bad lay that she would do that?” Leve’s smile grows more dangerous. “She tasted so sweet.”

The young woman continues to move to counter every inch that the ex-Separatist makes. Roshti smiles. “She told me about your clumsy attempts to seduce her. But it is telling that you were the one that gave something up.” Her blue eyes turn dangerous. “I also know that if it hadn’t been for another friend, you would’ve murdered her.”

Leve charges the fighter. Jana is surprised as she crabs sideways towards the alley entrance. She swings, but not with her otherworldly power.

She grunts as her left hand connects with the metal plate in the killer’s skull. She grabs her hand, blood streaming from her tortured knuckles and fingers. In the moment’s distraction, Stane reaches her blaster and scoops it up.

She fires at the Togruta’s forehead markings.

~=~=~=~=~=

Dairlen Poldar watches the expensive brandy reflect the light in his glass. His expression darkens as he realizes that his ‘archaeologist’ is nowhere to be found. He shakes his head. _No matter. I don’t need her._ He picks up his datapad, using his eye to access a file.

He smiles as he realizes that he has the means to seize the power from Zeltros. Without the interference from idiots such as Secor and the others. 

A power that has repelled invasions for thousands of years. He calls up another file. A simple history, an article of the recent past of the Inner Rim. A report from a Jedi named Plo Koon of an incursion by the Stark Collective during the last Hyperspace War.

An incursion that ended with the entire force sent to Zeltros never being heard from again. Poldar rubs his forehead, massaging the headache brought on by the powerful brandy of his family’s vintage.

The report by Plo had never been filed officially with the Republic. He had come across it in his work for Palpatine. Cataloguing Jedi knowledge for use in the Empire’s conquest of the economy in the ashes of the Republic. 

A quest that had brought he a renewed place in the galaxy after the failures of his family’s main business. He curses. A failure marked by the amount of the brandy in his hand that remains in his cellars.

No one else had seen the monograph now in his hand. Just as he is sure that no one has seen the other file on his datapad.

He touches the icon. A list comes up. A list that had mysteriously appeared in his comm a few months ago. A comm from an old ally of his family. A ruthless lawyer for various criminal syndicates, as well as an intelligence broker.

An ally who had mysteriously died on a forgotten world in Wild Space. He smiles at the windfall from Gontan Krell.

From beyond the grave.

He looks at the list of numbers and names of ships. A list left over from the Clone War.

He smiles as he sees the seemingly random numbers and characters at the end. He touches the linked string.

_My own private armada._

Poldar brings his comm out. The bland visage of a naval officer is displayed in the air. “Ahh, Commander. I am sending you coordinates and some other…..information. The coordinates are in Wild Space. Maybe even beyond.” His eyes turn dangerous. “Go there. Bring me back what you find. The other information will help you bring it back.”

The holo clicks off. 

It is time. Time to end the reign of the upstart Senator. Time for a member of a true Elder Family to take his place at the head of the galaxy.

He laughs.

Unbeknownst to him, another listener hears his laughter, as she reads the cloned information from his datapad.

Colonel Leeza Antol smiles. Now that he has accessed the information, she now has Gontan Krell’s last message to her.

A message from the grave to locate a fleet of Separatist battleships. All automated. All of the ships unaccounted for after the war.

Her eyes lock on her own datapad. _Maybe I can lose a few of them, if I need them._

~=~=~=~=~=

Ahsoka forgets the pain of her hand as she senses the bolt flying towards her head. The Force and her instincts make a split second decision for her.

_Survival over concealment._

She has a split second to see the look of surprise on the ISB agent’s face as one her lightsabers flies into her uninjured hand from under the scarf wrapped around her waist.

The surprise turns into a cry of pain as the deflected bolt shatters the pistol. 

As well as the woman’s hand and arm. She screams. Her eyes widen as she sees the sabers in her hand. The look of incredulity turns into a death’s head grin of triumph. Both the ice-chip blue eye, and the electronic red gleam with possibility. She rises painfully. “I have won,” she says quietly, her voice rasping with pain. 

Ahsoka raises an eyebrow marking. She hears metal shod footsteps behind her. She keeps her focus on the mercenary. “I have three of my four names in my grasp, Jana, if that is your real name.” 

“Jedi.” Her face twists into a snarl. “Drop your lightsaber.”

“Do as she says, Commander,” comes a familiar voice. Ahsoka turns away from Stane.

A small Zeltron child rests in the hands of her six brothers. She scans them. They are there, but their existence in the Force is different. 

Twisted.

The child, a small girl, is held easily. Their blasters are in her direction, but don’t threaten her directly.

“Drop your weapon, Togruta,” a male voice, different from her brothers, says. She turns further. Her blood runs cold.

The Imperial commander holds a blaster to the head of Dani Faygan. The young woman’s eyes are black with anger, her crimson skin flushed a darker hue.

With sadness. “I’m sorry, Ahsoka, love,” she whispers. Her eyes flash. “Kill them! Don’t mind…”

Her voice stills as Tonca strikes the back of her head with his blaster. “An easy deal, darling,” Stane says. “Drop your sabers, and I will let the little girl and your friend go free.”

Ahsoka turns back to her. She looks at Dani. “Yes, even Faygan,” Stane says. “Even though she is on my list to die, along with her Corellian boyfriend, I will let her go. I can always find them later. A Jedi is too much to pass up.”

Ahsoka closes her eyes. She sees Dani and the child, free. Free to live their lives.

_Protecting the innocent._

She makes her decision. She sheathes her blade. She feels Bly take it from her, as well as her blasters. Her second lightsaber is stripped. She can sense nothing of her brother behind the mask.

Palpatine’s designs will soon be complete.

After a moment, she can feel nothing of the world around her, as another trooper pulls her hands behind her back. Bly snaps binders on her. The hum of the ancient energy field ceases in her mind. Nothing. 

Cuffs that she has worn before. When standing before the Senate, on trial for her life. 

In her dreams, just before she is executed. 

Ahsoka Tano immediately thinks of her hunt-brother. Of his tenuous connection to the Force. 

_He won’t feel me die,_ is her only thought.

She sees the trooper holding the little girl put her down and quickly shoo her away. The child disappears in the evening. 

Stane makes to protest, but stops. She turns to Tonca, who hands her one of the lightsabers. She activates it, swinging it for a moment. Tonca hangs the other one on his belt. “Put them both against the wall. Have these meat-droids burn them down.”

Ahsoka and Dani lock eyes. _I’m sorry, Dani. I failed in my gamble_ , she mouths to the Zeltron. _I failed you._

Dani smiles.

“You said the Zeltron could go free,” Bly says, his anger rising.

“Shut up, clone. We can’t let the ally of a Jedi go free,” Stane says. “You’re naive, if you thought that we would.”

She walks over to Ahsoka, and seizes her jaw in a painful grip. Ahsoka stares at her defiantly. “Guess you won’t get to watch me turn your wife in as a Jedi-lover,” she says. “I am going to enjoy watching her strangle on a Pantoran noose. I will think of you and this Zeltron dying.” Her face darkens. “I may not kill the Corellian. I may let him live with his grief.” The mercenary shoves her to the two troopers behind her.

She feels her back touch the cool stone wall. Dani is calm in her resonance as she is placed next to her.

She gives into the despair, as she cannot touch the Force through the power of the suppressor-cuffs.


	16. The Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The darkness rises on Zeltros. Two warriors of the light prepare to pay the price

Phygus Baldrick maneuvers the trackball linked to his two datapads. He can hear Draq’s foot tapping impatiently as the tiny slicer moves through mountains of data as it streams over the two screens. He smiles as he looks at the smaller inlay of the screen. Ano Lessi’s cerulean face is set in concentration as she looks through two other streams of data on her two data-monocles. She worries her lip with a small tooth, the diagonal lines tattooed on her face, gifts from her now deceased family lineage, wrinkled in concentration.

Phygus realizes that he is staring. A tap of an index finger on the back of his head brings him back to the data. He grins sheepishly, and turns to the owner of the index finger, expecting his shit to be jumped in feet-first. Instead, a small smile decorates the usually fearsome visage of the Dragon of Corellia. “I know she is distracting, little man, but we need to find something on the Imp. Dani’s world may depend on it.”

A chime comes over Phygus’s comm. He smiles as he reads it. “Ano has a point, Draq’. Why are we wasting time trying to find something on Poldar, when we could just manufacture it?”

Draq’ smiles at both of the slicers. “Because as devious as both of you are, I am not sure either of you are evil enough to come up with something that would impress Palpatine. That is your audience.”

Phygus nods. “I have found a great deal of corruption and shady dealings. But hell, that could be the resume’ of any sector Moff these days.”

“Yeah. This has to be something big. Something that could get him ended by the Emperor,” Draq’ says. Baldrick and Ano fall silent in their concentration.

Draq’ sighs and turns away. _Maybe I should let them make something up. I don’t think that the Imperials are going to care that Poldar appropriated an ImpStar to hit a peaceful planet. Especially if he finds something._

Bel Iblis closes his eyes. His mind skims over the knowledge of what the Moff might be looking for. Knowledge that he had sworn an oath to never reveal.

Knowledge that outworlders, no matter how close, were not supposed to know.

He tries to move thoughts of the young woman with the laughter in every word away from his mind. Her Core accent, the product of engineering training on Coruscant, whispering his name as her mouth played over the skin of his shoulders.

Whispering other words in a language that they did not share.

Words that he later learned were part of a song. A song of farewell to her love.

He thinks of the looks that she gave him, just before he left to go back to his world. Before she had later told him that she had borne his child.

A daughter.

He hears voices growing in the distance. He looks up. Baldrick’s worried face is close to his.

As close as it can be from the vast height difference. “What?” he asks.

“I think we have something. Something that might get the Great Snake in a tizzy.”

Draq’ pushes his memories away and turns to the screens.

~=~=~=~=~=

Dav Kolan walks into the corridor of the small private office in the dingy, down-at-heels public building. He comes to a small glass fronted door. Faded lettering proclaims that the door is the portal of _Parlarbo Imports and Exports._

Kolan doesn’t bother with sublety. The noise of the door splintering from his kick echoes through the hallway. His eyes narrow in disgust, as he stares at an empty office.

 _Goddamned Corellians._ He had come here on a tip from his perpetually useless assistant Station Chief, Raisa Horan. She had told him that the old Dragon had called and said that he had something.

Something at this address. Kolan sighs. _More goddamned Alderaani, probably,_ he thinks sourly. He starts at a noise. He draws his blaster and points it at the door.

A small rodent sticks his head out, his whiskers wriggling. Kolan rolls eyes. “Probably something that Covenant’s Togruta girlfriend would like for a snack,” he says aloud. He smirks, thinking of the pair. The smirk dies as he thinks of what he knows about the identity of that Togruta.

Of knowledge that may cause him to have to kill her.

He hears the noise again and starts to curse. A blaster bolt connects with his right shoulder, spinning him around. Another one strikes his left leg below the knee.

Kolan slams to the ground, striking his chin on the hardwood floor. He looks up as several large, armored figures file into the room, their dark armor seizing all light in the room.

He had heard of them, been involved in the project of their development, but had never seen the finished product. Personal Loyalty Troopers - guards for high-ranking Imperials. He looks down as he remembers how they had gained their rumored genetic enhancements.

From experimentation and tissue harvesting from his clone brothers. He sees them looking down at him. Coded burst-messages issue back and forth between them.

The leader lifts his blaster.

And falls from the hidden blaster in Kolan’s weak hand. He opens rapid fire on the others as their leader hits the ground, forcing them back. He manages to get to his right knee, but goes down as another bolt strikes his side.

He hears a noise from the corridor. A strange humming sound. He is sure that he has heard it before. He sees the troopers reeling backwards from something, blasterbolts striking them in a flurry. His eyebrows rise as he realizes that the bolts are the exact same color and type as they had sent downrange.

The bolts are deflected back. Kolan sees the pointed tip of a bright blue shaft of light. Advancing. There is silence.

Nine elite troopers lay dead from their own bolts.

He lifts up his blaster and points it at the intruder walking into the room.

Covenant’s left hand closes in a fist and swings towards him from near his shoulder.

The Corellian opens his fist at the apex of the swing.

The last Deathtrooper flies into the room and strikes the far wall with a sickening crunch. The sound of the trooper sliding down the wall does not distract Dav Kolan.

He had seen Covenant use a lightsaber before, and had overlooked the fact.

He could not overlook the Deathtrooper flying to the far wall, as if on a marionette’s strings .

Kolan sees the Corellian deactivate his blade and place it in a double pouch on his belt behind him. He stands, looking at Kolan expectantly.

Kolan points his blaster at the Corellian. His finger tightens on the trigger.

~=~=~=~=~=

The Moff walks into his audience chamber. He notices that his personal guards are absent. He shakes his head and grins. _When I am Emperor…,_ he starts.

His eyes narrow as he realizes that he is not alone in the dim light. Four Imperial Naval troopers stand clustered around another man. A tall human, with dark hair and a sardonic expression. An angry red scar traces his hairline at the forehead, the beginnings of white at the hair along the scar.

It is his eyes that draw Poldar in. Eyes like black holes. Depthless, uncaring.

Unrelenting.

A smirk flows to the man’s otherwise regular features. “Hello, Poldar,” the man says. He realizes that the man wears a dark blue civilian suit of elegant, but functional design. Dairlen Poldar straightens. “That is Moff Poldar, to you,” Poldar says calmly. “And you are?”

“ISB-010,” the man says. “Kolan.” He pulls a small metal cylinder out from his pocket. “Got some things that I found that might be of interest to you.” He shifts painfully, but remains standing. Poldar grins as he sees the singe marks on the arm, side, and legs of the suit.

“What may that be, pray tell?” His eyes narrow. “Agent.” In his pocket, his left hand takes up a small device with a red switch. He thumbs the button.

“So, Kolan,” Poldar says, not bothering with the title, “what do you have for me?”

“A death warrant.”

Poldar remains calm. He pushes the button again. “Really? Is this one of Secor’s little power plays again? He is going to have to do better than that.” His face twists. “Are you one of his toys?”

Kolan grows serious, then grins. “Maybe. When I was younger. Learned a few things from him.” His face sharpens. “Not what you think. I learned loyalty to something greater than yourself. I learned how to be a leader.” His dark eyes grow sad, then sharpen again. “I learned to serve a cause, as well as my comrades.”

Poldar laughs. “I guess you learn all of that patriotism in the military. Never really interested me.”

“Kinda figured that.” The door opens. Poldar starts to smile, but it fades when he sees only another trooper, a human male of medium height. He nods at Kolan.

The agent turns and jerks his head at the other troopers. As one, they turn and march out of the room. “One thing you might want to know is that little doo-dad in your pocket won’t work. All of your minions have already been informed of the sanction.”

“What sanction is that?”

“Using Imperial funds to enter into agreements with slavers. You see, you should be more careful when you make deals with Zygerrian scumlickers. They tend to keep records. Especially when the Emperor’s enforcer, Lord Vader hears about it.”

For the first time, Poldar lets his aristocratic mask slip. “It is amazing what they will give up when an Imperial sector fleet comes knocking,” Dav says.

“I cannot believe that the Emperor would order my death for something trivial as dealing with slavers.”

“I think the Senate convinced him. Especially when you purchased import licenses for 30,000 units from Zeltros to Coruscant. That is what Bail Organa discovered.”

Koldar sneers. “Organa. That useless upstart. His family ranked below mine. He only married well,” he says.

Kolan laughs. “Don’t really care, Moff. Or should I say ex-Moff?”

“I demand a litigator. I demand to speak to the Emperor. I am an Imperial moff. I can only be tried by the Senate.”

Kolan throws a disk on the floor. “It’s all there. The only choice you have. The Emperor is giving you a chance to make it right. Your alternative is a meeting with Lord Vader. I understand that while he accepts it, he is not fond of slavers.”

Poldar’s eyes are filled with fear.

“No,” he says, his voice quivering.

“Thought that might loosen the bowels a bit,” Dav says.

“NO! I did this for the Empire. Palpatine is weak. He is nothing but a politician. I was born to rule. I can rule the Empire….” He stops.

There is laughter. Kolan and the fleet trooper are laughing. “What?” he asks. “What amuses you, scum?”

Kolan lifts the datapad in his right hand. “Nice confession. It will play well at the next Moff’s picnic.”

Poldar’s face twists in anger. “You lying bastard. You had nothing on me. There was no warrant.”

“Not exactly true, dear,” Kolan says. “We had all that I talked about. Just nobody would care about what you were doing, especially if they didn’t know why you were doing it.”

“You son of a bitch.”

Kolan turns to the trooper. His eyes widen as the trooper brings his blaster up.

Dav involuntarily flinches when the trooper fires.

The bolt splits the Moff’s head in two. Kolan turns to the trooper. “You idiot. We didn’t have sanction….” The trooper motions at him to look.

His eyes focus on the small blaster in the Imperial’s hand. Kolan turns back to the trooper. His comm dings. He looks at it. A slight smile creases his face.

Bryne Covenant has holstered his DL-44. He fights with the chin strap of the oval helmet, throws it clear. “Well,” Kolan says. “Better late than never.”

“What?” Covenant asks.

“Sanction came through. Apparently my little snippet of vid was enough to get him ended.”

Covenant looks at Kolan in disgust. “Here I thought you sounded almost like a caring human being, Kolan,” he says.

The smirk returns to the ISB agent’s face. It fades. The two men glare at each other. “Well, I guess your goddamned order is preserved,” Covenant spits out. “Tough shit for the people of Zeltros.”

“Not my problem, dear,” Kolan says. “That is for you and your do-gooders.”

“Then stay the hell out of my way.”

Kolan stares at him. “I guess I owe you that save. But I don’t know if I can ignore what you are, Jedi. You or Ahsoka.”

Covenant’s eyes flash at the mention of the young ex-Jedi. “I think we know what will happen if you go after her. If she doesn’t take care of you, I will. That goes for any of my loved ones.” His mouth sets in a tight line. “Or my worlds.”

After a moment, Kolan nods. “Then go do your good, Jedi. Save the universe.”

Covenant nods. “What was your name, Covenant? As a Jedi.”

“Taliesin Croft.”

Kolan smiles. “Then we fought together. At Coruscant.”

“Yeah. You were my fighter cover,” Bryne says.

Trigger nods. “I never saw you. Just heard your voice and your name.”

Kolan looks down, then looks the Corellian in the eye. “Three days. On Coruscant. I have a meeting. Meet me at Delmon’s. I might even buy.” He smirks. “I have a nice hotel, as well.”

After a moment, Covenant nods. He thinks of what other information the ISB might have.

As he walks away, Kolan thinks of a young Alderaani doctor. Another of an Elder Family. Of the only thing an ISB agent might have to fight for.

~=~=~=~=~=

Ahsoka leans down and places her forehead against Dani’s. Their hands are bound behind their backs, making it awkward to touch each other except in this fashion. Her eyes close.

It is Dani who speaks first. “I am sorry, Ahsoka. I got you into this. This was something that was mine and mine alone to fix. You should have never gotten involved.” She speaks in a whisper. This is not for the psychopath or Ahsoka’s brothers. The ones that were going to murder them.

Dani feels a grin form along the top of her head, where the height difference places the operative’s lips. “If you haven’t figured it out, yet, sweetie, we are kind of in this together. It is not just Bryne, but his family for me.” Dani can feel the grin transform into a Smirk. The expression that Dani is pretty sure makes a Corellian ex-Jedi’s heart flip.

_His is not the only one._

“Kinda started for me on Takodana when you ran up to me, hugged me, and grabbed my ass. Your care for Bryne, as well as me was so clear, Dani,” Ahsoka finishes.

“I am so glad that you found each other. For both of your sakes. For your lives.” She looks down. “Now I am going to deprive you of each other.”

She feels the eyeroll. _Probably not one of his favorite expressions_. 

“Honey, you forget what we used to be. We weren’t guaranteed a life. It hasn’t changed since the Jedi died.”

Both women can sense the growing impatience around them. Neither are worried about it.

“Ahsoka,” Dani whispers. “I want to tell you something. I hope that you don’t take it the wrong way.” She looks up into the warrior’s blue eyes. “I told you earlier that I once loved a Jedi. I did. Enough to take the vows of a heart-bond with her. About a month before they all died.” She looks down, gathering herself. “She was your hunt-brother’s Master. Shaak Ti.”

The young warrior, so much like that huntress, looks down. She closes her eyes, seeing Shaak Ti for the last time.

As she looks down, her face pained, with the other members of the Council.

Just before Ahsoka is lead away, no longer a member of the Jedi. As she is cast away to her fate.

“I know that you and she….,” Dani starts.

Ahsoka shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter, love,” she says. “I have made my peace with what happened.” She looks away. “With most of them. My Master’s master. My Finder.” She chokes. “My mother-of-the-Hunt.”

“For what it is worth, it nearly destroyed her and Bryne’s bond. He was trying to recover on Lassa’s ship, when you found each other again.”

“I know,” is all that Ahsoka says. She smiles softly. “I am so glad that you found each other. That you gave each other happiness during the dark times.”

“She was so proud of Bryne. Of you. Especially when I told her that you and Bryne’s relationship had changed.” She pulls closer. “I loved her. I can only hope that I see her soon.” Dani looks at this huntress.

“You remind me so much of her.”

They are quiet for the few seconds that they have before two of the troopers move towards them. “I do wish that we had shared the light, Ahsoka,” Dani whispers.

“Me too,” she hears. Dani touches the huntress’s full lips with hers. Ahsoka Smirks as she feels Dani’s tongue. She meets it with her own. They break apart.

They both turn before the troopers reach them. Ahsoka straightens. As Dani mimics her movement, she feels…. _something_ in her resonance. Bly says something to Ahsoka. She can only hear the angry tone of the huntress’s reply.

Dani turns and stares at the troopers. Six more regular troopers have joined the remaining clones. They have formed in a double rank in front of them. Bly stands off to the side. He pulls his remaining, repaired DC-17.

She glances out of the side of her eye at Ahsoka. Ahsoka’s face is marked by the same defiance, but there is something else there.

Several somethings.

Sadness for her brothers. But something else. She looks at the darkening horizon. At that moment, Daaineran Faygan knows that she is on Corellia, or Alderaan, or Shili. Wherever her hunt-brother is.

Dani looks at the horizon herself. Her eyes widen as she sees her heart-bond. She is looking at the young woman, a smile and more on her serene face and in the violet eyes of a foretold master huntress on her world. Eyes that many times belied that serenity with passion and humor. _With love._ Dani’s eyes widen as Shaak Ti shakes her head imperceptibly.

She turns and looks at Ahsoka. Both of their eyes are wide as warmth grows through Dani’s resonance.

She hears the clone, Bly, bark a command. The troopers come to the ready. Before she turns to face them, she hears one more soft phrase from the huntress.

“May the Force be with you.”

Another barked command. The blasters come to the present, their muzzles staring at them.

The warmth increases, as a cacophony of voices in their emotions.

It is Ahsoka’s turn to hear a whispered phrase. “You are what the Jedi were meant to be.”

“Fire!”


	17. Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A world’s power unleashed.

Sina Faygan’ii tries to push her way through the growing crowd in the square. The crowds are milling about, their eyes focused on the Imperials interspersed throughout the crowds in the early evening twilight.

Her people’s fear, so palpable in the resonance, was beginning to dissipate. Something else begins to tweak her consciousness, as a warm buzz.

She was only just old enough to remember the last time anyone had tried to invade Zeltros, when the pirates of the Stark Collective had tried to take hold of the riches of her people’s gifts for lightness and joy. She only remembers, from the vantage point of a five year old, the burst of emotions through a powerful focusing of the resonance. She remembers her aunt, heavily pregnant, and her father, his powerful frame shaking with anger, closing their eyes as the burst swelled.

She closes her own eyes. She can feel the same emotions beginning to swell. Sina looks at the nearest Imperial, a fleet trooper, his own emotions evident on his face. His eyes are wide and bright as what had replaced the fear begins to swell.

Pure resolve.

Sina remembers. She remembers the taste of those emotions from nearly thirty years ago.

The taste, like an overly sweet confection. One that she had been guilty of smearing over her face as she tried to eat a whole piece.

The taste of joy. Of the Home.

Of love. Love for each other, and for themselves. Of the joy from sharing their love.

_Of love’s resolve._

Resolve that darkness will not overwhelm this loving world.

_You-kah torin._

The Land of Song.

Her eyes snap open. She was not aware of when the _Modula_ had occurred in her body. When emotions came to the forefront, either hers, or someone else’s, causing her eyes to shift to their darkest obsidian.

As her body shifts, a glimpse of a familiar face moves to the forefront along with a whisper.

A face whose eyes are permanently _pra-Modula_.

_Sina, love._

Eyes always glowing in their sable intensity. She hears snippets in the familiar voice that always accompanies the beautiful, laughing face.

 _I don’t know where Dani is, Taina_ , Sina shouts in her mind.

The voices in her head are light. _Don’t worry. She is near. She is in danger, but I am working on it._

“What can I do?” she says to the air. She notices a stormtrooper looking at her curiously, as she can feel the presences struggle, as the _resolve_ begins to focus more. She looks away.

_Do what everyone else is doing. What everyone in the square does. What every one on the Home is doing._

The voice in Sina’s head falls silent.

She pictures five faces. Five faces that are dear to her. Three that she has known nearly since she can remember.

Three faces that have had her love from first laying eyes on them, in spite of occasions of anger. One that she had never known, except in holos.

She sees her cousin, her aunt, her father. She sees the picture of her _abeeyeh_ , dead at her birth. The one that she had never known, dead of the mind flux.

An affliction that occasionally affected the Fayga.

A family curse that had made it easy to hide another secret.

She thinks of the fifth. One that she has only known in the last few days. A beautiful, strong warrior, from a time before. Loving, compassionate, while hiding her own pain and losses.

_What the Jedi were meant to be._

She stops before she adds the sixth and seventh face. A handsome, warm face with its own strength. With the power of the Home behind it; with the power of his heart-bond next to him.

She does what everyone else is doing on her world at this particular moment.

She forgets pain, loss, the whole gamut of lesser emotions.

She only loves.

~=~=~=~=~=

“Fire!’

Nothing happens. Ahsoka and Dani, braced for the crash of bolts in their bodies, for lancing pain, look at one another.

The warmth that had been growing, the comfort, the love, even before the troopers aimed at them has increased exponentially.

Ahsoka looks at the six officers. Her former brothers. She can see their blasters lowering, then raising, then lowering.

She can feel the uncertainty, the outright pain rolling off of them in waves in their Force signature.

Her head snaps around. _Wait a minute. I am wearing Force cuffs. I shouldn’t be feeling anything in the Force._

She reaches out. The Force surrounds her, as it has for every day of her nearly twenty-three years. Even before she knew what it was.

Three meters away, Bly and his brothers are struggling with intense pain. Gooder crumples to his knees. Till bends over him, touching him.

In an instant, Zeltrons begin to pour into the walled enclave. _No, not pouring_

Walking. Looking at them. In the next instant the pain is gone. It is replaced by warmth and light.

For the first time in their lives, Bly, Gooder, Till, Rene, Towner, and Knot are free. Free of anyone’s influence. They look at one another.

Stane’s remaining eye bulges as she realizes what is happening. “Kill them, you useless bastards! Fire!”

She start to move towards the two women. She sees the non-clone troopers milling about, but continuing to aim at their targets. Tonca moves towards the pair as well, his blaster coming out.

Dani starts at a noise. She, like the Zeltrons crowding in, is focused only on the light in her resonance. She turns to her right. She realizes that the cuffs have fallen off of Ahsoka in pieces. The blue eyes snap open. One of them drops in a wink as her hands fly up.

Tonca stops. Stane seizes a blaster from one of the clones. They both point them at the pair and pull the triggers. Dani braces for the impact, as there is no way they can escape the bolts at that range.

She braces in vain as the bolts are deflected. Seemingly by the warrior’s bare hands.

 _With a little help from a mystical friend_.

As Ahsoka reaches out for further mayhem, Dani feels the bright light, with its impression of a crooked grin and a dark shade of green, edged with two other colors shining in her huntress’s emotions.

Dani smiles as Ahsoka’s arms yank. Her hands twist, with the index fingers making a definite pushing motion. One hand makes a come-hither motion.

Tonca looks in shock as the lightsaber on his belt moves, as if being pulled. He dives away from Stane instinctively as he sees the weapon on her belt flipping up and back down. As he does he brings his blaster up to fire again.

He is transfixed by six blaster bolts. Bolts from blasters held in the hands of the last remaining members of the Grand Army of the Republic.

Stane lifts her blaster again. She feels warmth on her leg as the saber hanging on the right side of her belt ignites. As it swings upwards towards her body, she closes her eyes. She sees a pair of hard green eyes, the face of Jaze Stane grinning at her.

The white beam slices into her body at the diagonal. It continues its swing through the Mirialan’s body and reverses, flying away.

Into the hand of the tall warrior standing, her back to the wall, her body in front of her companion.

Ahsoka’s sister and fellow warrior. Stane’s blaster flies from her limp hand, attached to the upper part of her body, separated from the bottom part of her torso and legs. Dani snatches it out of the air with her left hand. A binder hangs from her right.

Ahsoka’s arms are a blur, as she deflects a salvo of bolts from the five remaining armed troopers.

Into the weapons. Dani looks at her. The young ex-Jedi holds her stance for a moment, then sheathes her blades.

Ahsoka realizes that they are surrounded by the people of the world. The comfort, the light, and the resolve, still suffuses her body. They are joined by another sensation from the young woman standing next to her.

She Smirks. “We are about to get ended and all you can do is do your damndest to try to get my motor running and my pants off?”

Dani grins at her. “What do you mean try?” she asks. She nods her head at Ahsoka’s flushed skin and increased respirations.

“That is from the fight,” she protests.

“Bullshit, sweetie. I’ve seen you fight for a half-hour and your pulse rate never rises above Togruta-normal. Ain’t buying it.”

She softens. “You were magnificent.” she whispers. The devilish smile returns. “I think I might be a little wet.”

“Give me a couple of hours to save the world, and I might take care of that,” Ahsoka says, her eyes not meeting Dani’s black windows. She looks around. All of the Zeltrons present, their eyes are fixed in the black with—whatever had focused them.

Bly walks up to them, his helmet off. For the first time since she had seen him again, his eyes are calm. They are filled with sadness and pain, but they no longer burn, as the _Vode_ on Mandalore had. He salutes her.

“Report, Marshal-Commander,” she says formally. His eyes widen at his former rank.

“Command….” he starts. “ _Vod’ika_ ,” he corrects. Ahsoka sees Dani smile as her own eyes soften for an instant. An instant that she looks into the past.

“I am receiving reports from all over the world. Troopers are— confused. They don’t know what to do. Some units can’t be found, their armor and weapons abandoned where they stand.”

Ahsoka turns to Dani. Her friend’s eyes are still in the black. “What was that?” she asks quietly.

Dani smiles. “I think that was the Chalice of Omri,” she says.

“I thought that had something to do with fertility,” Ahsoka says, her eyebrow markings raised.

“No. It deals with what is paramount in a Zeltron’s life. In everything we do.” She looks at the sky. It is clear.

“Everything we do is about love.”

“Pretty goddamned powerful cup,” Ahsoka says. She grins. “So where did you hide the lockpick?”

“I’ll never tell, dear,” comes the reply. “You can try and find the others.”

Behind them, as he listens to their bright laughter, Bly looks at the sky. He sees hazel eyes in blue skin, with unbound lekku twitching. The apparition smiles at him. Aayla smiles in that love.

In forgiveness.

~=~=~=~=~=

The Caretaker watches the armored interlopers mill about aimlessly from the balcony of the hidden building. The Acolyte-Heralds wait patiently for the return of the small vessel atop the large column, to its place of rest.

The beautiful woman with the always emotion-black eyes watches through macrobinoculars. The small drinking cup sits near her on the balcony ledge. The Caretaker removes the wreath from her shaven head. She feels her resonance fading.

She only feels the powerful love and emotions from the woman watching the scene unfold in the enclave off of the square. The Caretaker smiles. She sees that the macros are focused on only one of the two women who had been captive.

 _Not the exotic warrior with the otherworldly powers of her own_. Her eyes grow soft. _She is easy on the eyes, though._

She starts as the other woman speaks. Barely above a whisper.

“She is so beautiful,” the woman breathes.

The Caretaker nods. “You should be proud, my Lady. Daaineran is her mother and father’s daughter.”

The Lady can only nod. The Caretaker is there as she stumbles. Her hand goes to her head. The Caretaker assists her over to a chair. One of the Acolyte-Heralds reverently takes up the cup and brings it to the chair.

The Lady drops her hand from her head. She takes the cup and raises it to the four winds. She drinks deeply.

The Caretaker and the two young girls smirk as the strong, fragrant fumes of aged Corellian whiskey waft over them. _Not exactly the tradition_ , she thinks, _but it tastes a helluva lot better than the essence of the Red Spirit Tree._

_The essence of power._

_Of love_.

A roaring noise interrupts the night. They look up. Several ships come into view. The two women curse. Five _Gozanti_ -class transports come into view. The dark expressions turn into smiles as more ships heave into view.

CR-90 Corvettes. Twenty of the ships in gray, each with a distinctive green stripe around the center.

The Caretaker, occasionally still known as Kanylynaan na’ Torstan’ii, smiles. She looks at the Chalice of Omri. The Chalice’s black eyes are fixed on the Corellian ships as they flare protectively around the Imperial transports, herding them towards the landing field near the garrison.

Kanyly smiles at the look on that beloved face. She takes up the symbol-cup and downs the rest of the whiskey. She turns it upside down on the table.

She thinks of a phrase that she had heard from one of those Corellians as a young girl.

_That ain’t the cup you’re looking for, sweetheart._

She turns and walks in to the building. Her job is finished. The power has been used. Time for a new Caretaker for the Chalice.

~=~=~=~=~=

Ahsoka walks slowly with Dani Faygan back to Sina’s house. They watch as the crowds of Dani’s people begin to live again. She looks at Dani as they watch some go off into the small alcoves in groups of two or more.

A crimson blur runs up to them, seizing them in her arms. Squeezing them as if she would never let go. They both return the embrace. Sina touches both of their faces. She kisses her cousin, then Ahsoka.

“Snork! Ahsoka!” is all that she can say.

Ahsoka Smirks. “I looked that damned show up on the holonet. You gave her the name of a devious Ugnaught?”

Sina laughs. Dani gives them both a thunderous look. “It is because, I, like Snork, tended to lead,” she says loftily. “My older, much more experienced cousin, was more like Doof. A docile Wookiee who followed everything Snork told him.”

“Could that really be the reason?” Ahsoka asks Sina.

“We just let her think that,” the doctor says, “It was really because she always snorted like Snork when she laughed. It was an uncanny resemblance.”

Dani punches Sina in the arm as they laugh. She turns and punches Fulcrum, as well, for good measure.

Laughing as she did, but with no evidence of an Ugnaught-like noise.

Passersby smile at the three young women holding each other. Laughter has returned.

All three stop as they hear the roaring in the sky. Observers would see a rapid play of emotions over their faces. Especially on Ahsoka’s. The emotions run the gamut from anger to surprise.

To relief when the Corellian ships arrive.

Ahsoka looks at Dani. “Looks like your dad is here,” is all that she says. The look of love as the young woman looks in the sky cuts through both Ahsoka and Sina.

Ahsoka closes her eyes as she thinks of another who wears the same uniform as those on the Corvettes.

_The Rangers are here._

~=~=~=~=~=

Dav Kolan stands at attention in front of Moff Secor. Leeza Antol stands next to him in hologram form.

Wilhuff Tarkin watches the proceedings from his office on Sentinel Base.

A naval aide recites the report on Zeltros. “….almost the entire battalion has not reported for muster after they were ordered back to barracks after the incident. A few are trickling back. They are disinclined to leave Zeltros.”

“The Emperor is disinclined to pursue this matter any further,” Tarkin says, his image and voice fading in and out by the distortion of time and space. “This was a matter of overreach by a traitorous Moff. A Moff whose threat was ended by the timely intervention of Agent Kolan and his staff on Alderaan. In addition, the Ryloth sector seems to be blowing up. There were connections with Ryloth in the insurgency on Zeltros.”

He looks sharply at them all. “Do we have any ideas of how we can get these troops off of the planet? The small insurgency, a few rabble-rousers from offworld did not warrant the heavy hand. I and the Grand Vizier have been assured by the elected leaders that the situation is well in hand.”

There is silence on the part of the three officers. Impatience on the part of Tarkin. “Keep watch on Zeltros. Our elites and our Senators like the world. Their visits keep them distracted and occupied,” the Eriadu says.

Secor looks at Kolan. “Agent Kolan suggests that we allow the Corellians and the Alderaani to continue with relief and rescue operations, to include dealing with whatever malady that affected the troops.”

Kolan is able to maintain a straight face at the description of the affliction as a ‘malady.’

Tarkin’s eyes narrow, as does Antol’s. After a moment, he nods. “Very well. Inform the two systems of their added mandate.” He smiles his patented death’s head smile. “Which brings us to some shifts with the untimely accidental death of Moff Poldar.”

“Moff Palumin is being shifted to Poldar’s sector. Moff Secor, you are being shifted to the Core. To the Alderaan sector.” Secor bows as Kolan smiles his pride at his first captain.

Tarkin looks at Kolan and Antol. “We have seen the need for younger blood among the ranks of our Moffs and one level below—the planetary advisors.”

“Colonel Antol. Your success with Operation Windfall and assistance in identifying Poldar’s treachery was of great benefit to the Empire. You are hereby appointed as probationary Director of the ISB.”

Antol’s eyes widen. She bows.

“Commander Kolan. Your decisive actions in solving the issue of our wayward Moff makes you a prime candidate for greater reward. You are to report to your post as ISB Inspector for the Core, working where you are needed. As such, you will serve as the Imperial Advisor to the new Viceroy of Corellia, whenever she is confirmed.”

Kolan’s expression is less than triumphant. He manages a brief nod of his head. “You are tasked with undermining the power of the Bel Iblis faction.” Tarkin pauses. “While it is advantageous for Draq’ Bel Iblis to remain as Chair of CEC, we feel that a change is needed in the government. The current Advisor has been successful  in ‘guiding’ the Diktat and will most probably be ‘elected’ to succeed him in the coming months. You are to assume the duties of advising her. Your first task will be to remove Bel Iblis from office as Procurator-Fiscal and External, as well as carrying out the disbandment of the Ranger Force of CorSec, returning them to Planetary Security. Of course, you will see to their execution of the Zeltron operation.”

Kolan curses. _Damned Corellians. Always throwing a spanner in my plans._

Beside him, Leeza Antol calculates the probability of the younger daughter of a small-time crime family rising to the level of power that she has. Her dark eyes fix on Secor, a predatory expression on her face.


	18. Retuning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunions take place, as well as re-connection. A Dragon returns to a world he left thirty years ago.

Daaineran Faygan looks out over the early evening of her world. Her eyes soften as she sees her people going about their business, as they prepare for the celebrations of the last week of the Festival.

It had been three days since she and her huntress, _her new huntress,_ she corrects with a grin, had nearly died, their chests opened by a salvo of blasterfire.

Her smile fades. Since then, she had not seen Ahsoka. The younger woman had disappeared into the night after the Corellians had landed.

As if unable to face her.

Dani and Sina both had seen the shadows come over Ahsoka’s face after the snark and outright relief had marked their reunion. She had allowed the touches and kisses as they walked back to Sina’s house.

The house of Dani’s childhood. Dani and Sina were practically vibrating with the excess spillover from the focused expending of their gift. They would both need excessive amounts of food, a long sleep, and certain activities to reset and retune that gift. As they had entered the house, Sina had bustled off to find the first of the requirements.

That was when the shadows had grown. She had watched the sadness flow onto the young woman’s features, as they sat together and ate.

Sina had seen it as well. But neither of them could comfort the ex-Jedi with their empathic gift, as they replenished the calories lost.

The sadness had continued as Dani and Sina had prepared for the second part of their recovery. The two Zeltrons had showered, trying to wash away the trauma of the Wall and the Square. Ahsoka had declined to join them. When they had come out of the ‘fresher, into the master bedroom, they had found her already in bed, her boots and weapons belt the only thing missing.

Sound asleep. The same troubled look on her face as she slept. Without a word, Dani and Sina had wrestled her trousers off, leaving her in her underwear and top, before the fatigue had claimed them both. She had a vague memory of the two cousins placing Ahsoka between them; of the young warrior snuggling closer to them both.

Dani did not remember much of anything else, as they had slept for the better part of the next two days.

Or at least the two Zeltrons had.

When the two women had awakened, hoping to take care of the third activity required for the retuning, they had realized that Ahsoka was no longer in the bed. They hadn’t immediately thought much of it, as they had fallen into the retuning; Dani knew that the Togruta would not have been able to sleep for that long.

Ahsoka had been nowhere to be found in the house. In her heart of hearts, Dani knows what her new sister is working through. She had seen the disappointment on her face as Bly and the other clones had prepared to fire their blasters into their bodies.

Dani did not know what Ahsoka’s experience had been during the Cataclysm. She knew a bit of what Bryne had experienced, as he had been with Shaak Ti when she had died.

 _When she was murdered,_ she corrects herself. Once again, the hole in her heart, the most important organ to a Zeltron, yawns larger than the planet.

She shakes her head as the vision of her heart-bond moves into her consciousness. She hears a drawling voice in her head. _She wouldn’t want you to curl up and die, sweetie_ , the Tal-voice says in her head.

For the first four years after the Empire was born, she had almost been determined to do that. By cutting off all contact with her family. By denying her nature.

Since then, she had made the choice to fight again. Since she had found one that she thought was lost with her heart-bond, she had given in to that nature, sharing the light—the heart, the mind, and the body with various partners.

But there had been something missing.

A gaping wound that could not be healed, no matter how hard she tried.

She looks at the brightening sun. She realizes that in all of her trying to live, she had forgotten an important ritual.

Her people, those bright and joyous beings, did mourn their dead. They mourned the light that was missing in their lives.

Like everything, in their world, they shared the remembrance with their loved ones. In the same way that they did for everything else.

 _In the light_.

Dani Faygan shakes the thoughts of her dead away. She could not mourn and remember during the Festival. This time was for the living.

A time would come when she could mourn and celebrate her dead.

When she would, again, live life to the fullest.

She knew exactly which two warriors of her heart she would share it with.

~=~=~=~=~=

Ahsoka Tano takes a deep breath as she prepares to enter a small, plain building. The text with the accompanying Mando’a phrase had arrived earlier in the day, as she had been watching Dani and Sina sleep, wondering how to deal with the sadness and pain of the last two days.

Sadness and pain for her brothers. Six of whom were most probably about to be cast adrift in the galaxy.

Or worse.

Sadness and pain competing with the overwhelming joy and light of this world and its people.

Ahsoka takes a deep breath and knocks gently.

After a moment, there is a sound as a bolt is drawn away. As she waits for the door to open, she takes a quick look around. While the Imperial presence had suddenly decreased exponentially, almost overnight, she was unsure how she would be received. She grins for a moment. She is very sure of how she would be received if an Imperial patrol, or even a Corellian one had followed her. The grin fades. She closes her eyes to gather herself.

A beloved face looks out at her from the cracked door when she opens her eyes. A beloved face of thousands that she has seen for most of her formative years, looking at her with laughter, with grief, and with love. Love for a little sister.

Until the end, when they were looking at her with murderous purpose. Intent on ending her and every Jedi that they had fought with, bled with, and laughed with. Including the ones that they referred to as their _jetti._

Till, the youngest of Bly’s officers gives her a broad smile and invites her in. The four older clones are not as sure of her as she walks in. Gooder, Rene, Towner, and Knot all stare at her. She stops and holds her hands up, palm out. She smiles at them. Finally, she sighs and is about to turn away.

“Commander,” she hears. “Ahsoka.” Gooder holds his hand out. “Wait. Please don’t go.”

She stops. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me or not, boys,” she says. She blinks back tears as her affection for them rises.

Her brothers smile.

“There really is no one we would rather see, girl,” Knot says, his voice gruffer than the others. “You saved us.”

She looks down. “I don’t know about that. I think the Zeltrons saved us all.”

“Yeah,” Rene says. “They are still saving us. But they give you and your friend most of the credit. Along with something they call the ‘Chalice.’ They call what happened the ‘Chalice’s Pour.”

Ahsoka’s eyes widen at that. She looks away.

When she looks back at them, her eyes are bright with emotion. “I am sorry, _ner vode_. I am sorry that I couldn’t save you. All of you, who were my brothers.”

“You deserved better.”

Rene walks over to her and pulls her into his arms. She knows that he feels the dampness on his chest. “We all did, _vod’ika_.”

After several moments, she pulls herself away from him. The others look at her expectantly. “Where is Bly?” she asks quietly.

The others look at one another, their varying shade of amber eyes filled with concern. “He left,” Gooder says. “He was never the same after the Order.” He closes his eyes. “None of us were, but he most of all.”

In the forefront of her mind, Ahsoka sees a beautiful Twi’lek Jedi glancing at her commander with an unfathomable expression, just for an instant, as the Commander assists her in bringing a dying ship under control. A soft look, reserved just for him.

Or so the Master had thought. She shakes her head from the memory. “I think that he has extra demons to exorcise,” she says quietly. The others nod.

“What will you do?” she asks. “Where will you go?”

The five brothers look at the oldest, Gooder. His face grows thunderous. “Don’t know. We got notice of our discharge just after we nearly ended you. We aren’t even getting the satisfaction of deserting. Of telling them to go to hell. The Zeltrons and some old bastard of a Corellian says that we don’t have to decide that, right this minute. They and the Alderaani are going to help when their relief ship gets here.”

Ahsoka smiles at the description of a certain Dragon. “I don’t know if you want it or not, but I might be able to give you some help, if you need it.”

They all nod. The five of them look at one another and then begin to crowd in around her. For a moment, she is taken aback.

She holds back her tears as they bring her into the middle of a tight embrace.

Later, as she walks the streets of the beautiful world, she thinks of the brothers she has known. Of Rex. Of Croft’s Sergeant-Major, Drop. She thinks of those who are ‘marching far away,’ as they say. Of what she had learned. Of how they had touched her life.

Of what they had shown her. They had mourned their losses, but they had never given in to despair.

They had lived.

Ahsoka realizes with a start that she has not been paying attention while walking, a trait that those same brothers would have chided her for when she was younger, and Fulcrum chides herself, now.

She smiles as she realizes that she is in the same retail district that she had found herself in when she first arrived. When the couple had very nearly talked her into forgetting about the wager, into ‘embarrassing their grandchildren’ with them.

Her eyes catch something in a shop window. A gleaming small object. An object in a shade of green close to one that she sees in her Force sense. When a hunter, a fellow survivor, a teacher, and now a lover can touch the mystical energy field that they share as a birthright. A unique shade of green, with a hint of black.

Known on that world as Blackthorn Green.

The color of faith in the symbol of one of the survivor’s worlds. Of duty in another. Her eyes lock on other shops next to the one she is focused on. She smiles as she lets the pure joy of the world flow through her.

She opens the door. A small bell rings in her consciousness.

~=~=~=~=~=

Dani finishes putting on her festival garb. As she looks at herself in the mirror, her eyes track downward. She feels the familiar warmth of another in her resonance.

Her cousin looks at her in the mirror from over her shoulder. Without a word, she rests her chin on Dani’s bare shoulder. “Hey, Snork. This is supposed to be a festival of joy and light. Your resting face doesn’t seem to reflect that.”

Dani turns her head and gives Sina a quick kiss. “I know. After all that we have been through in the last week, you would think I would be looking forward to the Penultimate. But I feel…empty inside.”

“Is is Ahsoka?”

“Some. I really thought she was ready to dance with us. To live in the light.” She rests her charcoal and azure curls against the other’s forehead. “But the rest of it is me. I feel like I am missing something. Something is at the back of my resonance, like it is just out of reach.”

Sina smiles. “I know, sweetie. You left here when you had only lived half your life. You come back after the same amount of time has passed. You’re bound to be missing something.”

Neither of them mention her losses on this world. Or the lack of a certain death certificate. It is not the time.

Dani turns fully and allows Sina to pull her into her embrace. After a moment they break apart. “Come on. There might be something to celebrate tonight.”

“Oh?” Dani says, her eyebrow raised.

Sina looks down, suddenly shy. “I am probably going to be asked to join a bond, tonight.”

Sina is treated to the pure joy of Dani’s expression, just before she is engulfed. “That is wonderful, Doof! I didn’t know. Who?” She calms. “If I can know, that is,” she says sheepishly.

“Why wouldn’t you know, dumbass? You’re my only relative. At least my only relative I really want anything to do with. Or can.” She smiles. “You will find out tonight, just in case I have totally misjudged their hints.” She kisses her cousin. “I know that you are still reeling from your own loss. Your own heart-bond.” She takes Dani’s hands in her as the younger woman looks away. “But I would be honored if you would witness the bonding, Daaineran Faygan,” she says formally.

Dani closes her eyes as she sees Sina’s eyes tear. After a moment, Dani looks up and kisses her. “The honor would be mine, Alyysina Faygan’ii.”

They hold each other as they think of others. They break apart. Sina slaps her on her ass. “Come on. Let’s get to the celebration. I am bringing the family artifacts. You might feel a little better if you find yourself using them tonight.”

Dani Faygan, for the first time in over a decade, gives a laugh with a hint of a beloved holovision character’s trademark snort at the end.

“You go on. I will be there shortly. Pinky promise,” she says, to still the building protest.

Sina nods and turns away.

After a moment, Dani hears the door open again. Her eyes narrow as she continues to feel a bright presence in her resonance. One that is a tiny bit different.

“What? Did you forget the artifacts? I told you I will be there and help you use them. I will dance…”

A familiar voice cuts through her being. “Will you dance with me, Snork?”

Dani whirls. Her jaw drops.

~=~=~=~=~=

Draq’ Bel Iblis walks down familiar streets. The memories swell with the resonance that he feels through to his bones. A smile is on his face as he recalls the last Festival that he attended on this world.

A Festival in which his universe was turned upside down. His beloved brother-in-law had finally freed himself from the existence that was pressing in on him. He had freed himself of an evil, grasping woman and her two useless sons. Sons that most people cannot believe were Jamestyn Blackthorn’s.

But at a great price. The price of a world. The price of a birthright. The price of a family.

He thinks of one other slight way in which his universe had upended.

“Mr. Dragon?” He starts at the young voice. A voice of a teenaged girl, her dark hair in waves about her shoulders addresses him a second time.

“Yes, my dear?” He looks around to make sure that nothing more threatening than the teenager is anywhere near. He had ditched his security detail a few streets back, by ducking into a dance circle.

He had surprised the members and himself by dancing a few of the steps, to evade the Rangers.

“Please follow me, sir.” she says with a careful smile. His eyebrow rises into his hairline, but he follows.

He follows to a high, beautiful stone building. His heart beats faster as he sees a hooded figure on a balcony overlooking the entrance.

In five minutes, after a winding ascent up a staircase, he stands behind the hooded figure.

“Hello, love of all loves,” a familiar voice says. He draws closer. She turns. His breath leaves him as her hood falls, revealing a harbinger of a face that he has seen grow for the last fifteen. The original that he has not laid eyes on in thirty years.

“Hello, Alyys,” he says. He bows his head slightly. “My Lady Chalice.”

She rolls her eyes in such a familiar way that his chest clinches. “You’ve never stood on ceremonial bullshit before, Dragon. Why start now?” she says.

He drinks in her face. So familiar. Her hair as blue as it had been, but with a white streak in the front that was unfamiliar.

As beautiful as she ever was.

“I never dreamed I would get to see you, my love,” he whispers.

“I knew as soon as I saw the green ships, that my love was coming for our daughter,” she says, her black eyes glistening.

“Yeah. Looks like I almost got here too late.”

Alyss smiles. “Never. She is her father’s daughter. She and the lovely, powerful huntress with her,” she says, as her smile turns devilish again. “had everything under control. Had’em just where they wanted them.”

It is his turn to roll his eyes. His eyes freeze as he sees how pale she is.

He watches her waver as she stands. In two quick strides, he is at her side. He suddenly stops.

People do not approach the Chalice of Omri without leave. They might accidentally get thrown across the room with the power of her gift. Alyys smiles. “You can always touch me, Draq’,” she says. She allows him to take her in his arms and guide her to a couch. He sits gingerly next to her, unsure of his place.

She feels fragile in his arms. As if she would break. “So you finally had to do what you were born to do.”

“Yep,” she says. At that simple reply, he is transported back three decades to a seemingly never-ending dance of words and snark with a beautiful young engineer.

He looks away. A beautiful engineer who apparently owed her life and her power to her world. Who could never leave the world again once she committed. Just as he owed his duty to his own world.

“I have missed you, my love,” she says. “Just as I miss my Dani.”

“She is magnificent, Alyys. You should be proud of her. You shaped her.”

“Yes, but you safeguarded her, when I no longer could. When the _pra-Modula_ took over,” she adds, pointing at her always-black eyes. She slumps for a moment. She smiles at his concern. “Hush, Dragon. You worry too much. I just took on and focused the empathic resonances of a hundred billion of my people. I am allowed to feel a bit out of sorts.” She straightens and touches his cheek, running her fingers over his stubble. “Still prickly, I see.”

“Yep. Still hard to kill, as well.”

“Yeah, but my Acolyte-Herald told me that you remembered the street-steps for the Middle Circle.” He grins sheepishly. She looks down, suddenly appearing as shy as he is. As if they were young again. “Do you have anyone, Draq’?” she asks quietly.

He touches her forehead with his. He notices that her crimson color has returned. “I have someone that I occasionally touch the light with. We are finding it harder and harder to see each other.” She gets an impression of red hair, pale skin, and a determined look.

She reaches up and touches his lips with hers. “Is there room for both of us in your heart, my Dragon?” she asks. “At least long enough for the Chalice to refill with life? With light?” He feels her tongue gently explore his mouth. “I am told by the texts that I am allowed to touch and be touched. That after I pour, I must recharge. Otherwise the world may get a bit unpleasant.”

He nods. Alyysina Faygan, the Chalice of Omri, Protector of her Home, stands and holds out her hand. As he rises, the robe falls off of her shoulders.

He is treated to the rare sight of her eyes transitioning back to their beautiful golden amber.

If only for the retuning.

~=~=~=~=~=

Dani tries to breathe as she takes in the figure standing before her.

 _All of her_.

She focuses on the familiar Smirk on Ahsoka's face. Of the uncertainty in the powerful blue eyes.

Her eyes track downward to the new clothing. To her Festival garb.

Dani tracks all the way down to the her huntress-bare feet. To the diaphanous skirt in a hue of dark purple. Much like the purple eyes of Chief Superintendent Dani Faygan, now transitioning to the black.

The skirt is slit on both sides, for ease of movement, much like the young woman’s traditional hunting attire. Dani catches glimpses of the white markings on her front and rear as she moves.

Her eyes track upward to the bare skin above the waist. Just like Dani. Her only other adornment, other than her large bronze and white shawl-scarf sliding off of her montrals, is a hammered gold montral-shield and headdress combination.

The uncertainty in the eyes grow with the Zeltron’s gaze. Dani’s eyes widen as she realizes that there is one more article of adornment.

Her eyes light on the slight bruising at the bottom of the warrior’s navel. Slight bruising with a small jewel hanging from the center of the discoloration.

A resin-jewel in a near-perfect facsimile of the green that circles her ship. Green with a hint of black. She walks over and places her fingers on the jewel. She feels the ripple of Ahsoka’s belly at her touch.

She mirrors the Smirk. “You know I told you about the spirit-trees and their ambers?” she says, a catch in her voice. She touches the chain on her own waist.

Ahsoka remembers a conversation over dinner in hyperspace on the trip. A conversation that ensued when Ahsoka had caught a glimpse of the amber with the tooth in it.

She had not asked about the tooth. Dani had been grateful at the time.

“Yeah. The colors have different meanings, right? Just like Mando and Corellian culture.”

Dani’s smirk grows.

“Okay. What does green mean?” Ahsoka asks with slight exasperation.

Dani’s hand trails downwards from the jewel.

“Welcome.”


	19. The Penultimate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Survival is celebrated. Memories of a heart-bond intrude. A beginning of healing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit more explicit, as the emotion rises.

Ahsoka’s eyes adjust to the lamplit open air enclosure. She starts as she realizes that this is the same enclosure where she and Dani had nearly died. Where the Zeltrons hostages would have been slaughtered.

She looks down. _Where Leve Stane and Tonca did die._

A crimson finger raises her chin. “Hey. It is alright. The place has been cleansed.” She smiles. “It is being purified now. This was what it was intended for.” She points to the wall where they had stood. Tented partitions line the wall. She feels Dani open her resonance.

An opening that amplifies the sensations coming from those and others that line the walls of the enclosure of the park. Dani takes her hand in her own. “Come on, sweet-cheeks,” she says with her mischievous smile. “You promised me a dance.”

“Yeah, I did. But I don’t know the steps.”

The eyeroll that cuts through her is as focused as any of hers.

“I have seen Togruta dance. You are a beautiful, graceful people. I think you can pick it up. Besides,” the older woman says, “I have it on good authority that you dance pretty well in certain situations. Especially the dark.” The look that Dani gives her flows to her center.

“Yeah? Who’s been talking? Covenant?” Ahsoka says with a faux-outraged look.

“Oh hell no, honey. We both know he can’t speak in complete sentences when his other brain is engaged.”

Their shared laughter rises, giving both of them more warmth throughout their entire beings. Impulsively, Ahsoka seizes Dani in a tight embrace, her face resting on the officer’s bare shoulder. After a moment, they break apart. Dani touches her face.

"You are so beautiful, Ahsoka Tano. I would love to drink in your light," the Zeltron says.

Ahsoka's eyebrow markings rise. "I would have thought that you would have said something more direct and blunt; in the way of your people."

_There aren't any euphemisms for an act of the heart, sweetie._

Dani shrugs her shoulders, an unaccountably shy look crossing her features. Ahsoka brings her lips to Dani's. Her tongue ghosts over the full lips of the security officer. As they come up for air, she Smirks. "Dani Faygan, I'll say it for you," she whispers in the tiny ear, just before her teeth pull at the lobe, "I would fuck you if you will have me." She looks away.

Dani smiles at the blunt words. Her mouth moves to Ahsoka's throat and lingers, her teeth gently playing over the Togruta's neck and shoulders.

After a moment, Dani pushes her away. “Come on,” she says. She pulls the warrior to the floor. A gently pounding, insistent music has begun from an unseen ensemble. Pounding, but lyrical. Ahsoka starts to feel the sensuous rhythm in her montrals and lekku.

The rhythm starts to move downward, but centers in her heart, rather than lower down. Dani stops and faces her. Ahsoka notices that her fellow-warrior has removed both of their shawls. She extends her arms from her body. She nods at Ahsoka, gesturing for her to mirror her. Ahsoka looks around. Other couples and trios and more move to their sides, their arms overlapping with fingertips at the elbow. Ahsoka is conscious of their skin touching theirs as the line extends.

It only takes her two or three stepped-on toes (hers and others) before she flows into the rhythm of simultaneous and opposing movements. Her hips are soon automatically swaying in the sinuous to and fro, backwards and forwards, twisting and sideways steps of the dance.

In the twists, she feels the partners to her side alternately thrusting against her rear and her front, as she mimics the movements. She can feel the warmth and the increased respirations from all.

The rhythm builds in speed and intensity until the music trails off with the group of about fifty adults sinking to the floor, on top of their original partners, attempting to catch their breaths. Ahsoka looks into Dani’s black eyes, as she tries to slow her own heartrate.

There is laughter as they lay there for several minutes. Some of the partners take the opportunity of lying there, partially concealed to start or finish a dance of a different sort. Dani slowly brings her hands to her bare back. Ahsoka’s tries to calm her breathing as she feels the nails moving up and down on her skin.

Dani’s eyebrows raise in a question. Ahsoka gives a quick shake of her head and looks down. Dani smiles gently, and kisses along her jaw, with a gentle application of her teeth.

They both rise, leaving the pile of dancers still intact. Many of them merely lying there. Existing in their closeness. In their joy.

Dani pulls her gently over to the sides. She manages to snag two cool drinks and places one in Ahsoka’s hand. She watches the warrior’s throat push the liquid down. She is about to place her lips against the pulsing muscle of that throat when something catches the corner of her eye. She turns and sees Sina beckoning to her. “Come on. Got some family obligations to take care of.” She grins. “Just go with it.”

Ahsoka lets her eyebrow marking fall, as they walk over to the alcove that Sina has entered.

~=~=~=~=~=

Nola looks out of the port at the twists and turns of hyperspace. She turns and smiles at the wonder in Flori Laken’s eyes. “First time seeing this?” the fixer asks.

“No. Only one other time. When Ahsoka brought me to Alderaan,” the young woman says. “Been in hyperspace many times, but never where I could see out.”

She says it with such a rueful quality that cuts through Nola.

 _Slaves and captives don’t get to look out windows too much_ , she thinks. Nola marvels at the strength of the young woman.

“You will always be able to look out of window, if I have anything to say about it, my dear,” a warm voice from behind them says. Both women turn and bow to Breha.

She smiles and reaches out, touching the bright colors of the mantle that now covers the young woman’s deep auburn hair.

Nola sees the Queen turn and glance at the only other woman who can legally wear the mantle on her world. Nola follows Breha’s look with one of her own. She looks wistfully at Sabe’ as she thinks of her fellow Handmaidens on two different worlds.

On this one, the Handmaidens only care for and protect the Princess Royal. _Unless Bail is able to outstubborn his Queen and talk her into having one of her own._

Nola laughs as she see the expression on the Queen’s face. An expression of thunderous obstinacy, mixed with love.

 _Good luck, Bail, my lad, with that one,_ Nola thinks fondly.

Her eyes lock with Sabe’. For a moment they share look of grief. Grief for those Handmaidens who are no longer able to enjoy their lives.

As well as two Queens that they each had lost—a sitting, and a former one. Both whose deaths could be placed at the doorstep of the new regime that even now may be still threatening the world they are speeding towards.

An officer steps up to the trio. He bows. “We are coming up on Zeltros, your Majesty,” he says. We will be in orbit in fifteen minutes.”

Breha nods. “Very well, Captain Colton. Stand by.” She turns to Nola. “What was the latest report from the Rangers?” she asks.

Nola nods. “Draq’ sent a message. The Imperial commander of the freighter flotilla has issued an order for the battalion to remain in barracks and let CorSec patrol the streets. So far, the order has been obeyed. What they are not telling the Corellians are how many of the troopers have actually reported. They are still finding sets of armor and weapons around the city. The garrisons in other cities, are patrolling as normal, with no incidents. As a matter of fact, the reports are that the fleeties are much more subdued and less arrogant.”

“What about Imperial command?” the Queen asks.

“The new Moff has sent an assurance that there are no more Imperials coming to the world for the time being. They seem to be focused on something going on in the Ryloth sector. Maybe even on Ryloth itself.”

Naboo and Alderaani look at one another, understanding in their eyes. Silent prayers go out for the world in question.

Breha nods. She reaches over and kisses Flori on the cheek and is gone.

The stars shift to the normal pinpricks of light. She hears a noise from the young Zeltron. Another type of warmth flows through Nola’s body. Different from other times. She pulls Flori closer to her, as she sees Flori looking out at the small world in multiple pastel hues. Her expression multiplies the warmth and the sensations.

_The Home._

~=~=~=~=~=

Ahsoka follows Dani into the small alcove. Her eyes widen as she sees Sina pulling her skirt down. The doctor’s eyes light up as she sees the ex-Jedi. She stops as she takes in Ahsoka’s festival garb. “Beautiful,” she breathes. She embraces Ahsoka. Her hand goes to the white wing marking on the cheek. “You clean up pretty good, Fulcrum,” she whispers.

She makes no move beyond that.

 _Well, other than broadcasting her interest through the resonance,_ Ahsoka thinks.

Ahsoka gives her a quick kiss. She takes in Sina’s nudity. “Are we interrupting something?” she asks with a grin.

Sina matches her expression. “No. Not really. Family. You can stay and watch or,” she narrows her eyes in a questioning manner, “you can join in. Plenty of room for family,” she finishes.

Curtains from another side open. Two figures walk in, hand in hand. As naked as Sina is.

Ahsoka’s eyes pop as she comes face to face with the ‘grandma and grandpa’ from several days ago. She stares at them both. The man smiles slowly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Dani bowing. He nods in response. His gray eyes gaze at Ahsoka. She looks down at her attire, suddenly self-conscious. She realizes that the shawl-scarf is still draped on Dani’s arms.

The tall, imposing figure holds out his hand. “Boman Torstan’ii, my dear. You look a lot less lost than you did a few days ago.” She takes his hand, trying to keep her eyes on his.

He turns to the woman beside him. He takes her hand in his free. “This is my heart-bond, Kanylynaan. She goes by Kanyly.” Ahsoka turns and stares into a pair of searching emerald-green eyes. She is immediately transported across light years to a different viridian gaze. She closes her eyes for a microsecond.

When she opens them, Ahsoka notices for the first time that the woman is bald, with a tiny bit of dark, honey-colored-stubble on her skull. _Oh, yeah. The last time we met, she was wearing the shawl over her head._

A day when she and her heart-bond were attempting to help her fit in more with the joyous crowds and celebrations.

Kanyly smiles. “You can look at all of us, darling. At both of us. We are not shy. Surely a beautiful Togruta huntress such as yourself is not modest.” With the warm smiles from both, Ahsoka relaxes. She notices that Dani is still tense.

Boman looks at her. “You must be Daaineran. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, my dear. Especially now as we will be families by bonding.”

Dani’s strong jaw nearly find itself on the floor. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Excellency,” she stammers. Ahsoka Smirks at her lack of articulation, but stops as she hears the last word. She looks at Dani, a questioning look in her eyes.

Boman grins. “Yes, dear. I am the _Zoetarch_. The elected head of state and government of Zeltros.”

Ahsoka bows her head. “Your…”

Boman holds up his hand. “No, my dear. Warriors such as you and our Dani here, who nearly gave their lives for my world, can call me Bo.”

She opens her mouth.

“Please,” he says, “I know the need for secrecy. I will call you Fulcrum.” He grins. “Although, if you do join us, I might want to know another name to whisper in your montrals and lekku.”

His grin widens at the flush of the stripes of her lekku.

“What do you mean, family?” she manages to get out. She notices that Sina has laid back on the large bed in the alcove.

Kanyly crawls onto the bed next to her, moving up to her head. “Sina has graciously accepted our invitation to join our bond.” She looks at Dani. “She said that you have agreed to witness our Rites next year. We are all grateful.”

Bo smiles at Ahsoka. “I hope that you will do the honor of witnessing, as well.” He reaches over and kisses Dani, then Ahsoka.

She finds herself nodding.

With one last grin, he turns to Sina, placing his hands on her knees.

Ahsoka is about to say something else when four resonances hit her. She takes a deep breath. She turns to Dani, whose eyes have transitioned to black. She hears a sharp moan behind her. She is about to turn when the voice is joined by two others in the noises.

Dani smiles and reaches up and gently kisses her. “Come on. You might not be ready for family time, yet.” She kisses the young warrior again. “I think we can find another alcove. Let them celebrate their engagement.”

Ahsoka turns for one last glance at the three. She sees Kanyly place a cloth strand, with a resin jewel around Sina’s waist. The black and gold resin stares at Ahsoka, as the bald woman settles back over Sina’s mouth.

A tug from Dani pulls her along. As they leave the tent, as the cries and the resonances grow, Dani reaches over and kisses her, this time, her tongue gently probing Ahsoka’s mouth.

She pulls Ahsoka into the another alcove. Her eyes adjust to the lower light. She stares at the large bed, the various artifacts placed on the night table. Her eyes lock on the bottle of twenty year old Whyren’s Reserve and two glasses. Already poured. She closes her eyes.

As she opens them, she sees Dani turning slowly towards her. Her eyes widen as she realizes that something she has never seen before is now present in the obsidian eyes.

 _Uncertainty_.

Ahsoka shakes her head. She takes a deep breath. _Come on girl. This ain’t your first time._ She isn’t sure who she is talking to in her mind. Ahsoka makes a decision.

She covers the distance to the table in two steps. She picks up both glasses and hand one to Dani. She sips hers, her eyes locking on the young officer, with what she hopes is confidence and certainty.

Dani looks away, then meets her friend’s gaze. “I know we have been flirting and joking a great deal, Ahsoka. But, I know what you and Bryne have is special. I would rather die than kriff up what you have with him.”

Ahsoka looks in her glass. “I know. I also know that what you have is special in its own way.” Her eyes tear slightly. “You saved him,” she whispers.

She looks up. “I will share you with him. He is my hunt-brother. Maybe not as deep a bond as a heart-bond or a mate in my culture, but there is an oath.” She pauses as she sees Dani’s brief pain. She forges ahead. “I will always come back to him.” She Smirks. “Even when he pisses me off beyond words.” They both laugh. They finish their drinks, each thinking of their bonds.

Dani looks at her. “I will share you with him, _ta’in-gere_ , and he with you.” She takes Ahsoka’s glass and sets it next to hers. Her hands reach up and bring the huntress’s lips to hers again. As their mouths meld, Ahsoka idly thinks that this is the second time that Dani has called her this. Each time, it has been the wrong time to ask her what the words mean.

Dani reaches behind Ahsoka’s head. Before she touches the center lek, her eyes ask permission. The huntress rolls hers. Dani places her hand on the lek, marveling at the texture, the twitching, and color shifts of the blue. She lightly drags her nails down it, eliciting a shiver from Ahsoka.

Dani’s hands dip down to pull her skirt off. Ahsoka gently seizes them. They stare into each other’s eyes.

Ahsoka’s hands drop hers and ease up her arms, stopping on the biceps. Her fingers trace the definition under the velvet.

She can feel Dani’s breathing increase. After an eternity, Ahsoka makes her move. Her fingers slowly move towards one another on the young woman’s torso. There is an intake of breath.

Neither is sure who gives it.

Ahsoka cups Dani's breasts, her thumbs playing over the nipples. Without pause, Dani's mouth tracks down the smooth throat to Ahsoka's breasts.

Ahsoka can hear her own gasp move into a higher register.

Their arms circle each other as their palms splay over their backs. Their skin alternately warms and cools as the hands move, somehow matching the tempo and the rhythm of the now-distant music. Ahsoka feels Dani's leg move between hers and press against her center. There is a slight cry as the thigh and knee moves to the song against her.

Ahsoka’s keen senses shift behind her closed eyelids as she finds herself pushed to the bed. She feels the soft cloth of Dani’s clothing, mixed with the softness and steel of her skin, moving up her legs, to rest upon her middle. Dani’s strong hands slide up her hips to grasp at the waistband of her skirt. In an instant, with a flick of the wrists, the younger warrior is bare to Dani.

Ahsoka hears her laugh as she sees the single lightsaber strapped to one smooth orange thigh. Without a word, Dani pulls her own sheathed blade from under her skirt. Their laughter rises in harmony as the weapons hit the night-table.

The laughter stills as Dani’s eyes focus on the rest of her.

Dani has seen Ahsoka naked before, but never with this raw passion and lust showing in her eyes. Her full lips are parted, her carnivore's teeth on display as she draws in deep breaths. Her eyes again lock on Dani's. The empath’s eyes widen at the slight hint of tears present in Ahsoka’s eyes. Dani takes a moment to thumb the tears that have slipped to her cheeks away.

Dani leans down to kiss her; her own eyes beginning to reflect and mirror the Togruta's emotions. She feels Ahsoka's hands on her ass, as her thumbs slip under the waistband of the other’s skirt. She gently pulls the skirt down Dani's legs. Dani lifts first one knee and then the other. The garment joins Ahsoka's on the floor.

Ahsoka lifts her fingers to ghost through the dark curls over Dani's mound, just above her own. The huntress smiles as Dani squeaks when a single long finger dips inside of her. Ahsoka gently moves her finger. Dani closes her eyes at the sensation. After what seems an eternity to Dani, Ahsoka pulls the digit out and touches her own lips with it, savoring the flavor.

Dani laughs brightly and kisses the huntress, tasting herself. She begins to move down the young woman's body. Her mouth pauses at the white markings over and around Ahsoka's center. Dani runs her tongue over the markings. Her eyes drive her mouth over them; as she is fascinated once again with the sensation of a lover with no hair.

Her heart clinches as she remembers another with similar markings and a lack of hair. Violet eyes, always present, flashes to the forefront her mind. The eyes, as always, are soft and smiling, with love or abandon as they look at her. With effort, as she looks at another huntress’s face, she pushes the memories away and moves back to the here and now.

Dani marvels at the beautiful contrast between the pale markings and the darker hue of Ahsoka's skin. The primal markings; used to break up the silhouette while stalking her prey. Her mind’s eye glances at the older huntress, of the relative paucity of the markings on the younger.

_The marks of a still growing huntress._

Dani giggles as an unbidden thought comes to her head. _Who is really the prey?_ She can hear Ahsoka's gasps and moans, as her mouth moves over the camouflage, but she can detect the questioning quality at the soft laughter vibrating against her. Dani notes the spots that quiver and quake more than others on the markings.

She moves to stifle thoughts that sweep to the forefront. Thoughts of the power and skill that the maturing huntress already possesses. Her face crumples for a moment at the darkness. Thoughts of whether the ex-Jedi will live long enough to be the elder huntress of her potential.

The Zeltron wills the thoughts away. She knows that Ahsoka feels the pause in her caresses in her body. Dani moves further down to her lover’s center. She glances up at the warrior's face. Ahsoka's blue eyes are filled with abandon again, but locked on Dani's black eyes.

Without warning, Dani's tongue plunges into Ahsoka's wetness.

Ahsoka's cries rise as Dani finds the cluster of sensations and concentrates her tongue’s assault on it. Dani’s eyes widen at memories and tastes.

Ahsoka’s eyes are closed again. Her fingers lightly stroke through Dani's hair and along her cheek as Dani opens her resonance more. An opening that allows her to experience Ahsoka’s explosion and reflect it to both of them.

A soundless scream erupts from Ahsoka's mouth; a scream of too high a register for Dani to hear. A scream that is nevertheless felt through other senses.The scream of Ahsoka's climax triggers Dani's own release. She collapses on the younger woman's middle, soundless words flowing from the empath's mouth along with her rapid breaths.

She moves her head up and pillows it on Ahsoka's breasts. Tears that she hides from the young huntress flow from her eyes as she thinks of her heart-bond. That older huntress who could make her sing as loud as this one could.

A woman who could make the inner part of her heart sing in ways no one ever would. She quickly wipes her eyes as she feels herself lifting through the air. She looks down at Ahsoka.

The young Togruta is Smirking as her hands manipulate the air. Dani squeaks as she flips in the air and then settles on her right side with her knees slightly drawn up. She lifts her leg and places it on the younger woman's shoulder as her lover moves onto her left side.

She feels Ahsoka's breath at her core. The feather light touch of air is replaced by a slightly heavier touch of a gentle tongue moving along her center; insistently pressing into her.

The stars expand in her head. She feels her joy reflecting back at her lover; the reflection travels back to her. Her heart rate increases to match that of Togruta-speed.

It slows as the sensations recede. She looks down at Ahsoka. The devilish blue orbs look back at her as her mouth moves down to the sensitive skin of Dani's thighs. Sounds between a gasp and a squeak emit from the Zeltron's mouth.

"Please—," she breathes.

"What's that? I can't hear you—," her tormentor says, her mouth set in the predator's smile.

Dani yelps as she feels those predator's teeth gently intrude on the soft skin of her thigh. The same place is soothed by a gentle kiss.

The predator's tongue returns to its proper place as their explosions begin to build again. Both sets of arms, orange and red seize each other as Ahsoka's mouth plays over the nerve cluster at Dani's core. A second and third burst of light in their heads and they are home.

Home in the present, not the past, if only for the moment.

Ahsoka slips bonelessly on to her back. Dani crawls up to where her face slumps into the crook of the Togruta's arm. She reaches up and softly kisses the bruised lips of the ex-Jedi. Her forehead moves to gently rest on the huntress's as they both absorb the variety of tastes and sensations.

They lie there drinking in each other's life. Their light.

Dani feels the warrior's forehead wrinkle. She kisses it smooth. "You okay, sweetie?" she asks.

Ahsoka smiles. “Yep. This feels so good.” Dani’s eyes narrow. She opens her resonance, letting it passively probe Ahsoka’s emotions. She feels the fading sensations of warmth and pleasure; the overwhelming emotion is fear. She knows that Ahsoka is seeing them both lying dead a few meters away.

Fear and regret.

Regret at possibly not being able to protect her loved ones. Even the one who is not present. She cups Ahsoka’s cheek. She opens a different part of her resonance. One that she has used with only two others in her life.

An older huntress, dealing with the pain of her weakening body. Weakening from an affliction of her very essence. Later, that huntress’s apprentice, _no, her son,_ dealing with his losses. His people. His Master. At that time, this huntress lying in her arms.

She feels Ahsoka relax as the comfort flows. The fear for her loved ones diminishes. The care remains.

 _Everything we do is about love,_ whispers through the resonance.

Dani’s beautiful features grow serious, but with a hint of her joy and life. "I will always be there for you and for him, Ahsoka,” she whispers. “For whatever you need. Whether it is for this," she spreads her hand over their bodies, "or taking your pain away; giving you relief with the resonance."

"I appreciate that, Dani."

Ahsoka is silent for a moment. "Who takes your pain, Dani?" she asks gently.

Dani doesn't answer. She feels dampness flow from her eyes, over Ahsoka’s forehead. "It doesn't work like that, my huntress."

The huntress’s eyes flash azure fire. "Bullshit, sweetie. Both Bryne and I are there for you. Nola. Your _abeeyah_." She only stumbles slightly over the unfamiliar word. Her eyes soften with suppressed mirth. “Even Phygus.”

Their shared laughter eases the pain of memory.

"I know. But..." She falls silent.

Ahsoka moves her lips up to the older woman's closed eyes. She tastes the salt of the empath's tears.

Dani smiles as she thinks of another huntress from her past. Of the older huntress saying the same thing. In so many words; as they spoke vows on the plains of the huntress' birthworld.

"Dani, what is bothering you? I kinda get the idea that you enjoyed yourself, but..."

The Zeltron smirks at this. _Understatement of the century._

"Is there something about me that upsets you?" Ahsoka asks bluntly.

"No!" Dani emphatically replies. "It is not you, Ahsoka. It is me." She pauses and draws a deep breath. "I have memories. Memories of someone who is locked in my heart. You do remind me of her, but I can't open those memories, right now."

She kisses Ahsoka. "I hope that you understand and that you can forgive me, but I accept if you can't—"

Ahsoka silences her with her own lips. "Hush. There is nothing to forgive or understand. Tell me when you feel that you can. I will hold it to my heart for you."

Dani brings her head tight to the strong shoulders of the warrior as she squeezes with all of her might. Her heart leaps as she remembers something. Something that had set her other huntress's world afire when she had discovered it.

If said huntress was already tuned up.

She smiles as she moves her mouth to the gently twitching lek nearest to her. Her teeth, tongue, and lips move over the blue and white surface. The logical part of her mind that is still engaged, marvels at the slightly different taste and texture from Ahsoka's skin. She sees the dark chevrons transitioning through the spectrum of blue at her touch.

 _Well, it seems to work with this huntress, too,_ she thinks.

She moves down to the tip of the lek. She looks up at Ahsoka. The woman's _no, she looks like a girl laying there_ eyes are closed. Dani lifts the end of the lek and takes it into her mouth, her lips closing on it. Ahsoka's head comes off of the bed with a cry. Her eyes snap open. She lies back, but Dani can feel the warrior's breathing continuing to increase.

Ahsoka's hand caresses Dani's hip, as the sensations build. Dani feels the back of her fingers moving over her skin. Ahsoka’s eyes close again the CorSec officer's fingers move back to her center.

Her war-roughened fingers move across Dani’s torso to her core. Her palm rests on the curls above. She smiles at the sensation of the hair against her skin. Her only experience with a lover without it had been a quick grappling with a hunter of her species on her homeworld when she had journeyed back to hide her lightsabers. At a time when she had thought her world had fallen in after joining Bail's movement. When she thought she had inadvertently betrayed them all.

Her mind is immediately drawn to her few lovers. Barriss. Lassa. Bryne. Nola. Meglann. Riyo. Even the tentative clumsy grapplings with the young smuggler in Coruscant’s undercity, Nyx Okami, and the unknown hunter on her birthworld. She shakes her head, as if to dispel the thoughts. _Not the time to think of others when you are touching a work of art like this._

She feels Dani's smirk through the Zeltron's empathic link. It morphs into a gentle smile _It's okay to think of him. And your others, sweetie. It is all part of the light and the sensation. Of your life._ Her eyebrow markings raise. She had felt the words, rather than heard them, in her mind.

_No. In her heart._

The light blossoms in their heads and through the resonance as their fingers open the moment.

Later, as she rests her head on her hand, watching her huntress sleep, her breathing steady and her face calm, Daaineran Faygan's eyes grow troubled. The vision of both of them lying across each other in a street, their hands bound intrudes into her thoughts. She sees the staring blue eyes fixed under a gaping wound in the forehead markings. She violently shakes the thought away. _So close. But Ahsoka Tano is a survivor. We lived._

The sensation of a thought comes across the link against her skin. A thought in a high, clear voice, but influenced by a certain Corellian inflection.

_I ain't the only survivor in this bed, sweetie._

The survivors lay against each other's skin and rest. For the moment of light and life.

As her own eyes close, she sees an older huntress watching her in the edge of her vision.

Smiling at her. Dani hears a whisper in an accented voice.

_Live, my girl._


	20. Living Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mother and a daughter listen and talk. Secrets are explained. 
> 
> Brothers find a home.

The city-planet glimmers in the light of the primary, a million tiny stars winking from the surface. Instead of the warmth that the world once fostered in him, his tiny open bit of Force-sense only echoes with coldness. With ash. His memory marks where the Jedi Temple once stood as the corvette enters orbit and crosses the terminator. A former home and sanctuary for so many years; now the terminus of evil and darkness in the Galaxy.

The Imperial Palace.

The former resident of that sanctuary thinks of his mission. He snorts to himself. _Mission. That is a new word for it._ His eyes grow pained as he thinks of what he might be about to do, in order to safeguard his world. To safeguard Fulcrum. To keep the knowledge of her birthright a closely guarded secret.

He looks at the approaching cityscape through the thick clouds. Even without his Force-sense on high, he can feel the oppressiveness of Coruscant. He curses himself. _Snap out of it. You did sign up to be a Jedi Shadow, when you weren’t even out of your teens. If the war hadn’t come, you might still be doing things that most Jedi would never dream of._

 _Tell that to Quinlan Vos,_ another voice in his head intones. He closes his eyes and centers himself. He sees Ahsoka’s warm smile looking at him from the stoop of a building on Alderaan, as they pledge that they will fight with one another.

He sighs. He will fight his way. The way that he was trained. The way he had to fight with his commandos. To keep her in the light.

Bryne Covenant slams his Force-sense shut, allowing himself to go blind. Blind except for those senses honed by his Master, and fostered by the Hunt of her world.

One of those senses hears a light footfall behind him, as he peers out of the observation port on the lower deck forward. He turns and raises his eyebrow at the Captain of the vessel. Her eyes meet his, as she rests her hand on the blaster holstered on her thigh. “We’re almost there. We’ve been cleared to a repulsor-platform in the entertainment district.”

He nods his thanks to the woman. He starts to turn back to the port. The woman stands there watching him curiously. Her eyes track up his body. Covenant raises an eyebrow. “Like what you see, Skipper?” he asks.

She grins. Her dark eyes twinkle with merriment, as well as the appraisal. “Not bad. For a wanker in a business suit,” she says dryly, in her smooth voice. His eyes lock with hers. He realizes two things as they do. She is looking up at him from a much lower height than him, but it doesn not seem to bother her.  He grins. He is used to many of the women in his life at a much different vantage, between his Master, Ahsoka, and Nola looking down at him. He is also used to others in his life not being to impressed when he looks down on them, with their outsized personalities and power. He slowly returns the appraisal from her tank top to her cargo pants, to her heavy work boots.

“You like what you see, stud?” She lifts her left hand and runs it through her dark hair, tied back in a messy ponytail, with blue and purple streaks through the curls.

His eyes catch the tattoo on the inner part of her bicep. A symbol of a tiny green, peaceful world. “So when did CorSec start hiring smartassed Alderaani for ship captains?” he asks, nodding at the tattoo.

She shrugs. “Oh, just got a taste for adventure away from the Mother. Needed to get off of the ship that I was on. It suddenly had an infestation of assholes on it.”

“How many?”

“Just the one. My useless ex-partner.” Her eyes turn thunderous. “It was time for a ship of my own. Senator Organa implied Corellia might be the place to be.”

He grins. “Let me guess. You have an issue with authority,” he muses.

“Only dumbass authority,” she replies quickly, giving him a searching look. “You think you might fall into that category?”

“Some days, Captain….?”

“Just call me Tamsin. That is enough.” Her eyes grow light with merriment. “Besides. The Hand of the Queen, when she was throwing me off of the Mother, said that there was this gray-haired wanker in a business suit who might be a fun ride if I was lonely.”

“Oh, she did, did she?”

“Yep. Said his name was Sausage or something. You know anything about that?” He rolls his eyes. He holds out his hand. She takes it, her eyes appraising him again.

He feels as if he is being examined by a Master. “My name is Covenant. If you lay off of the snark, you might get to call me…”

“You can call him Chief, Captain,” comes a voice from behind. They both turn. A woman a few years older than Bryne and a bit below his height stands in the doorway. The insignia of a Senior Inspector on her green beret is the first thing that he sees. The loose green cargo pants with a bloodstripe of the first rank is the only other significant uniform item, other than the arrowhead shaped shield on her gunbelt. An arrowhead with its point down—different from other CorSec units. The Ranger’s in-born authority is revealed as her dark eyes lock with the Captain’s. Tamsin attempts to stare the Senior down, but she finds that snark is not quite enough. She nods at Covenant and turns away.

“Did you have to get into a pissing match with the Captain, Kris?” Covenant asks.

Kris Tome, late of a district station on Selonia, grins. “Had to show her who was the boss, since you weren’t doing all that good of a job.” They embrace tightly.

“It is good to see you. I am glad the Dragon was able to get you assigned as a Ranger.” His eyes fall as he thinks of what is coming. “For all the good it did.”

“Yeah. About that. I got jumped over a few other candidates for this slot. I don’t want charity.”

Covenant grins, in spite of the approaching sojourn on a world that he thought that he would never see again. “Believe me. I am the only charity case that Draq’ and Dani have taken on. They don’t give that damned First Rank out for good looks and congeniality. Plus they couldn’t give you any more ‘stripes.”

She nods, smiling softly at a memory.

“The way I hear it, you saved Dani, when she thought her world had crumbled. You kept her whole,” he says quietly. He sees her shake the memory away.

“There is a welcoming party on the platform for you, Chief,” she says. Both turn to the viewport.

A tall male in a business suit stands waiting. As the ship comes in for a landing, they can just make out a thick mustache and an angry scar at his hairline. His dark eyes are fixed on the ship. Covenant nods. He pulls a chip from his pocket. “If I am not back, or have not checked in by 0700 tomorrow morning, follow the instructions on this. To the letter. No deviations.”

“Bryne….,” she starts.

“No argument, Kris. Don’t let the crew off of the ship. For anything. I am having some food and drink sent for the off-watches. Something other than ship’s rations.”

After a moment, after several different arguments play over her features, she nods, taking the chip. She pulls him into an embrace again. “You come back, Bryne,” she whispers against the skin of his cheek. “Dani would never forgive me if I let anything happen to you.”

He holds the embrace for several minutes. He breaks free and is gone.

Tome watches him through the port. Her eyes grow sad as she sees him walk up to the tall man on the dock.

~=~=~=~=~=

A pleasant sensation along her lek brings Ahsoka Tano from her slumber. The sensation, of gentle bites and kisses moves to her jawline. She slowly opens her eyes to the morning light. She smiles softly at the sleepy purple eyes gazing into hers. She feels a warmth along the length of her body, as she realizes Dani is lying on top of her.

Ahsoka grins as she realizes that certain warmths and sorenesses are centered in only a few spots. Her hands drop to the smooth back of the CorSec officer. Her nails lightly move over the lightsaber scar. She hopes that her touch might be soothing to the near-decade old wound.

Ahsoka feels her respirations rise as Dani’s lips move to hers. The warmth of the resonance flows through her body, seemingly starting at her toes. She returns Dani’s kiss, but lifts her arms and stretches them, trying to bring relief to those tightnesses and soreness. She feels the resonance grow. She feels it double as Dani’s mouth begins to track down her body. Ahsoka gasps as blunt teeth fasten on her breast.

 _Wait, double_?

She jumps up and off of the bed as her eyes lock on the woman sitting calmly at a chair near the entrance to the alcove.

Her eyes track to Dani as she hears the indignant squeak when she flies off of the bed and lands on her ass. Her eyes are thunderously black at the huntress. “What the hell….?” She sees Ahsoka’s expression and turns as she realizes there is another resonance present. Her eye color runs the gamut between the purple and black as her eyes rest on the woman, silently sipping a glass of the whiskey.

Neither had sensed or felt her in the room with them.

Ahsoka stares at the byplay. Emotions flow through the resonance. Anger from Dani, changing to uncertainty. Wariness. Regret from the unknown woman. Above all, love.

Ahsoka takes a moment to get untangled from certain objects that have found themselves in the bed. Certain family artifacts. As she finishes, she looks at the woman closely for the first time. Her eyes widen at the purple mantle that she wears over her shoulders. A pure white festival skirt, held up by a purple sash covers her crimson legs.

Her eyes gaze at Ahsoka with laughter as the huntress attempts to straighten her lekku. A gold diadem holds back the woman’s rich blue hair. A white streak can just be seen peeking out from the top of the adornment.

Ahsoka’s eyes light on the woman’s face. Something in the warm smile is familiar. Her eyes widen as she see suddenly recognizes the strong jaw. She glances over at her friend.

She starts to smile as she realizes. The smile freezes as she sees Dani’s guarded expression. She walks over and extends her hand to Dani. After a moment, Dani takes it and levers herself up.

Ahsoka touches her arm. Dani looks over at the woman. She sighs. “ _Ta’in gere,_ this is my mother, Alyysina Faygan.” Her expression grows slightly thunderous. “Apparently, miraculously back from the dead.”

Dani’s mother gives a credible Tano-smirk. “You’ll have to excuse my daughter, my dear,” she says. “She is half-Corellian and a full-blooded smartass.”

Ahsoka laughs. “I know them well, my Lady,” she says, not knowing what else to call the woman. The smirk softens. She holds out her hands. Ahsoka musters as much dignity as she can, and walks over to take the woman’s hands in hers.

“Draq’ said that you were beautiful. That is no matter. More importantly, he said that you were a powerful fighter and protector. She reaches up and kisses the huntress on her cheek. “Perhaps we will trade some secrets about taking Corellian males between our legs,” she whispers. Ahsoka’s eyes widen at this, but she giggles. Alyys squeezes Ahsoka’s hands again. “But, I think that my daughter might want to say some things to me.”

Ahsoka nods. She walks over to Dani. The two women embrace. “I think I’ll see if Sina and the in-laws might want breakfast. Or something. If you need me, you know how to find me.”

“Thanks, love. You are a good friend. Among other things.” Dani returns her gaze to her mother as Ahsoka gathers her clothes.

As Ahsoka turns to go, she hears a soft whisper. “Thank you for saving my daughter.”

She turns to the older woman. “We saved each other, my Lady,” Ahsoka corrects.

When they are alone, Alyys puts down her glass. Dani silently watches her, her expression unreadable. She finally speaks.

“So, _Abeeyeh_. Did you expect to truly fake your death without a death certificate?”

The Chalice of Omri sighs and pours herself another shot.

~=~=~=~=~=

Boman Torstan’ii, the resonance-elected leader of this world, sips his caf as he listens to the tall young Naboo report. He smiles, as he thinks of how this might be a young person’s fight. He catches Queen Breha’s eye. She is watching him, a smile of her own marking her face.

“…the transport flotilla is getting ready to depart. To date, they have been able to find about half of their troops. I think that the commander is frustrated and would like to tear through your world to find them, but he has orders not to.”

Torstan’ii nods. “What will happen to the ones they take back?” he asks.

Nola looks away. “I don’t know. I don’t know what reconditioning they will perform. I have been told that the battalion will be split up into a battalion of detachments. Used for replacements, prison guards, or garrisons. They won’t be used for what elite units are used for.” Her eyes lock with his. “But I don’t know how many will survive. They may dispose of the entire unit.”

There is silence in the room at the enormity of the Empire’s cruelty.

“And the others?” Breha asks.

Boman smiles. “We can conceal them. We have some practice in hiding former invaders. Seven hundred or so among a hundred billion people. They will be treated well, integrated into our society, or helped to get where they want to go. If they stay, they will become part of us. The only thing that they cannot do is vote, but their opinions will be weighed by our leaders.”

Nola’s expression turns sharp. “Why can’t they vote?” she asks darkly.

Boman smiles. “Our officials are elected by the resonance. Everyone who has one votes, everyone knows the outcome personally.”

Nola nods, her face softening. “Kind of efficient,” she says.

Boman can feel the young woman’s emotions running a gamut, as she digests what this will mean for the new residents. The _Zoetarch_ grins in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. “Took a few thousand years, but we like it.”

Breha rises. “I think that we need to be on our way. As soon as the Imperial recovery force leaves, we will. Your people seem to have recovered very well. The Rangers will stay a while longer.” She looks away. “We are not ready for an open confrontation. But we will do what we can do if they decide to return.”

He nods, taking her hand and bowing over it. Breha takes a deep breath at the hint of the resonance, as he feels her attempting to slow the mechanical and electrical impulses of her heart rate. Boman sees Nola smirk at her expression, then look wistful, as if remembering something.

He holds her hand. “I know, your Majesty. One thing that I will say, since we are alone. Your Fulcrum is a powerful warrior and a great friend to Zeltros. I think that she has a destiny for great things.”

Breha nods. She looks at Nola, who looks away. “We know, your Excellency. We know,” Breha says.

Nola speaks up. “If we can keep her alive.”

Boman smiles and nods. “She has an excellent ally in our daughter of Zeltros and Corellia. I think that Corellia might make the difference in that.”

Nola turns away, her eyes tearing. “I know,” she whispers.

Boman watches the two women leave. He looks at another door and pushes a hidden switch. The door opens and five men walk into the room. Five men with identical weathered faces. “You heard?” he asks.

The men look at one another. The one with the most weathered face nods. “Yes, sir,” Gooder says. “We have decided. We will accept your kind offer.”

The _Zoetarch_ smiles. “Thank you. Our Chalice is powerful, when our world is threatened. But I want to ensure that she is protected from any small threats.” His face grows sad as he contemplates the state of the galaxy. He brightens. “Of course, your greatest danger may be when she finds out that I have provided her with protection she doesn’t want.” The five share his laughter, a rare sound these days from these men.

He shakes his head and continues. “As agreed, you will serve and you will be paid. Until you don’t want to anymore. Then, there are so many small anchorite enclaves in the mountains of the interior of our continents. You can live there in honorable retirement.” He grins. “Those places are probably where the rest of the stormtroopers will live out their days, the ones who decide to stay here, for ours and their protection. Only the most adventurous of our guests go into the interior. You might be asked to help with protection of our artifacts from occasional pirates and treasure hunters who do.”

Gooder smiles. “It would be the least we could do, your Excellency.” His dark eyes look out the window. “We have done a great deal that we have to live with. Quiet contemplation might be good for us, eventually.”

Boman puts his hands on Gooder’s shoulders. He takes all of them in his gaze. “You will never have to be ashamed of who you are, here, Captain. We accept you for who you are. Fulcrum has vouched for you all.”

The leader of Zeltros is treated to the five battle-hardened men’s various shades of amber eyes tearing.

“Welcome to Zeltros,” he says simply.

~=~=~=~=~=

Alyysina Faygan looks at her daughter after downing her next shot. She is about to send a sharp riposte to the young woman. Instead, she throws everything that she had prepared for this moment out of the window of her heart and mind. She closes her eyes, feeling the moisture forming behind her eyelids.

She opens her eyes and locks on her daughter’s obsidian gaze. “I had this all planned out,” she says ruefully. Dani does not respond, nor does she break her gaze. “I did what I had to do,” Alyys simply says.

“And what was that?” Dani asks, pushing, her eyes filled with thunder. Her voice blank.

“I did my duty,” she says. “My duty to my world and my people.” She looks down at her bare feet. “When you were about ten years old, I started having these…episodes, for lack of a better word.”

Dani’s eyes widen, but she listens patiently. “My resonance would not go away. It felt like I was constantly feeling everyone around me without cease.” She takes another sip of the whiskey, allowing the burn to center her. “The sensation grew and grew, until I thought that I was going to be locked away.”

“That is why you were on ‘business trips,’ so much, back then,” Dani says.

Her mother nods. “Yes. I was trying to find a doctor who could treat me. No one seemed to be able to, or want to.”

Dani looks down, her own eyes growing moist. She fights the emotion.

“After a year of agony, a man contacted me. He said that he was the Caretaker of the Chalice of Omri. I didn’t believe him, until he came back with somebody from the _Zoetarchiate_. The man took me to see an old woman. I remember that she was very kind, but also kind of distant. I remember that my resonance calmed down, that it didn’t seem like I had everyone in my head.” She smiles. “Or my heart. Or lower.” The smile fades. “Her eyes were permanently black. They would not turn back to her normal color while I was there. I asked upon it.”

Dani walks over to her mother and kneels before her, taking her hands in hers. Alyys runs her fingers through her daughter’s hair. “That was when she told me that it would happen to me.”

“What was it, _abeeyeh?_ ” Dani asks in a small voice.

“She told me a story, of many years before, when she was younger than me, she started feeling everyone in her head. A Caretaker came to her and told her that she would be the protector of the Home. That she would be the Chalice. The reason that these things were happening was that she was genetically the best match to be next Chalice.”

“I told her that I didn’t want this. That I had a family that I loved. That my daughter was my everything. She told me it didn’t matter. That if I didn’t take her training, I would die. Another would be chosen.”

“She allowed me to go back home and prepare myself. I would go to the Enclave and train with her every night. It wasn’t very long before I was able to partially control the new power.”

She pointed to her eyes. “Finally, my eyes were _pra-modula_. Permanently in the black.”

The now-amber eyes fill. Dani fights her own tears. “She told me that I had to choose. I could not care for a young family and protect my world. That is when I decided to be dead to my family.” She smiles, a smile that is reminiscent of an ancient, mythical reptile on her other world. “I hoped that when I did and didn’t fake the death certificate that the Dragon’s daughter would be suspicious. That she would try to find me.”

Dani laughs. “Believe me, I tried. I ran away so much that I thought that I would be chained and locked away in Sina’s father’s basement.”

Alyys looks down, growing serious. “I remember looking down at you sleeping, before I left. Of how much I loved you.” She laughs. “Of how much like your father you were. So goddamned stubborn.”

“Nothing like you, huh, Mom?” The laughter claims both of them.

When they calm, the tears are flowing. “So what, now? Are you through? Since you used it?” Dani asks. Her eyes search her mother’s.

“Would that it were so, my love. I have many more Pours in me, since that was my first.”

“Couldn’t someone else do it? I want…” The young woman stops.

Alyys brings her head to her daughter’s. “I wish.” she says simply.

Her daughter’s sobs cut through her. She pulls the young woman in her lap, as if she were ten again with a skinned knee. She begins to rock gently, murmuring words in their birth-language.

“I want my mother with me,” comes a whisper near her ear.

“I know, dear heart,” the Chalice says. “But I cannot give this up. There is no other, until I start to lose my power, or I…”

“You die?” Dani asks, her voice hard.

Alyys places her lips against Dani’s forehead. “Yes.There is always that chance when I have to Pour.” She smiles and touches Dani’s lips with her own. “But there is a better chance that I will be like the former Chalice. I will stick around for a century, being a pain in the ass.” Dani rolls her eyes at that. “But, I have a loophole. Since you are an adult, I can have contact with you.” The young officer’s eyes light up.

“Could you come to Corellia? Could we be a family?” For an instant, the young child’s voice can be heard. Alyys silences her lips with her fingers. “No, love. I can never leave the Home. I have to be here, always.”

Dani curses and stands. “I can’t come live here. My father’s world needs me. I swore….”

The Chalice stands gracefully. She circles her arms around Dani’s bare waist. Her face touches the young woman’s smooth skin. “Hush, dear. I would never ask you that. I know what your other world means to you. But we can be a family again, if you wish.”

“It may be too dangerous, _abeeyeh_. I am involved with something that could harm you and my other loved ones.”

Alyys nods. “I know, dear. We will make it work.”

“Mother, I don’t know if Draq’ knows that I know.” Her mother does not have to ask what she refers to.

“I know, dear. I will respect both your wishes.” Her face grows sad. “He did tell me of your loss. Of your heart-bond.” She chokes. “Sweetie, I never wanted you to go through that alone.”

Dani is silent as she remembers. She closes her eyes. When she opens them, her mother is smiling at her. “Tell me. Tell me of your love, heart of hearts,” she says.

Dani gathers herself. “Her name was Shaak Ti….”

~=~=~=~=~=

Bryne Covenant looks down at the datachip in his hand. He pulls the small laser-etcher away from it, stares at the scratched-out portion on the exterior.

A portion that had borne the Imperial cog.

He closes his eyes as he tries to push the sensations from the night before from his mind. Just as he had tried with the previous time that he and the Imperial had connected.

The shame of making love with a member of the regime that had slaughtered his kind. A regime would slaughter he and his new family without compunction. Especially his hunt-sister—a woman he thought that he had lost.

He wonders what she would think if she knew what he had done.

Touching evil with the intent of murdering it if he had to. He sees Kolan’s sleeping face in his mind as he takes the chip from the Imperial’s clothing.

He pulls his datapad out, scrolls through until he finds an icon. An icon of the Naboo Handmaidens. He connects the chip and follows memorized instructions for encrypting the information.

He closes his eyes as the information winds its way to a world of light—the birthworld of the owner of this icon’s foster-sister.

~=~=~=~=~=

The man with a million faces slings his pack as he leaves the old freighter. As he starts down the ramp, he sees a furtive figure dodge back into the ship. He catches a glimpse of crimson skin and a large scar bisecting the young man’s face. He shakes his head. The figure does not exit the ship as the ramp begins to fold up.

 _Not my problem_ , he thinks.

He walks down the lane, walking ever further from the tiny spaceport. He walks until he comes to a small farm. He looks at the setting sun, playing over a hill with a single forlorn tree at its crest. A tree that overlooks a small stone.

“I think that you might be looking for my husband,” a voice with familiar, lyrical accent says behind him. He stops, his heart crumbling at the Ryl inflection in the voice.

He slowly turns around, expecting to see blue skin and hazel eyes, lekku twitching with love and abandon. _With accusation_. He opens his eyes. A Twi’lek woman stands there, her pink skin flushed with exertion as she lugs a basket of feed to a barn. Bly looks beyond her and sees two children chasing each other. His eyes tear as he sees a familiar figure, his long hair tied back out of his eyes, walking from the fields.

“Hey, _Vod_ ,” the young woman says. “You okay?”

He doesn’t answer. He falls to his knees. He feels warm, bare skin against him as she takes him in her arms.

“Shh,” she says. “I’ve got you,” as she rocks him gently.

With his eyes closed, he sees his General smiling at him.

He is free.


	21. To The Fullest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An arrest and an order to a meeting.

Draq’ Bel Iblis nods at the report of the Ranger Captain. He looks up at the rising _Gozantis_ with their cargo. His expression darkens as he thinks of the casualness of the Imperial flotilla commander at disposing of the rest of the battalion. “If I didn’t have my orders, Procurator,” she had said, “I would find each and every last one of them and space them before I jump.”

He had held his tongue.

As well as the small gift in his pocket. A gift from a Blastech engineer on this world, over three decades ago. The first of its kind. He had refrained from putting a superheated bolt of gas and energy into the woman’s forehead.

_Bad manners for a host, after all._

Draq’ smiles at his memories, both of the day he had received the EC-17 prototype, and of the last few days. He turns and enters the ground elevator of the corvette. As he walks to his quarters, he remembers his parting words to Alyysina. _I will keep our heart safe._

She had smiled her mischievous smile and had replied, _I think she will keep you safer, old man._

He stops in the passageway outside of his quarters. He rests his head against the bulkhead. After a moment, he pulls back, shaking his head. He glances both ways, satisfying himself that no one had seen him.

Draq’ palms the door open. He walks into his cabin, heading straight to the sideboard. He stops as he sees that the level in the whiskey decanter is lower by about two fingers than he had left it. _Odd. Covenant isn’t even on this world._ He smiles and looks up. “There are only a few of my wayward children who could slip past the watch on a Ranger vessel.”

A musical bit of laughter penetrates his hearing from behind him on the settee. “Your security wasn’t bad, Dragon. Just that I have had a lot of practice.”

Draq’ finishes pouring his own tumbler. “Yeah, Bail has told me about the time you came in through an airlock in a pressure suit and was sitting in his quarters.”

“Kinda proud of that one,” his visitor admits.

He turns to the sitting area. His breath catches as he sees Ahsoka Tano. As always when he sees her, the obvious (at least to everyone around her) beauty is not the first thing he notices. Her raw power and strength, coiled and watchful as she sits sipping his whiskey, floors him. The Dragon of Corellia raises an eyebrow at her garb.

The mix of festival garb and the practical. The flowing skirt, in the color of justice, for his family, contrasts with the partially open, battered nerf-leather jacket. He grins at the faded spots where squadron patches had once marked the former owner’s skill and affiliation. A garment that he knows was a gift, from someone who wouldn’t readily part with it. Draq’ walks over and looks at her. He smirks. “May I take your coat, dear?”

He is treated to an eyeroll and a Smirk of her own. “Damned Corellians. Always trying to get a look at my chest. It is almost as genetic as the Mandalorian half admiring my ass.”

He sits next to her. “My dear, you are mistaken. Unlike that pup who fights with you, I am old. I have also spent quite a bit of time on Zeltros. While I admire them as a thing of beauty, I haven’t been distracted by them since I was, oh, maybe twelve, or so.” He looks away. “My nephew does many things that irritate me, but I am glad that he knows beauty and power when he sees it.”

Ahsoka looks away. He can see the flush of her bronze-orange skin and the blue on her lekku. _Yep_ , he thinks, _everybody else sees it but her._

Both fall silent as they sip their whiskey. There is much unsaid between them about absent loved ones. Finally, the oldest, but not necessarily the wisest opens his mouth. “So I guess you are here to read me the riot act about forcing Bryne to Declare for the Electoral Signet in a few months’ time,” Draq’ says.

Ahsoka downs the rest of her drink. Draq’ silently rises and walks over to the decanter. He returns with a decanter and a pitcher of water, balancing two more glasses. She smiles a distant smile as he splashes more whiskey into the crystal. She takes another sip and nods gratefully. He pours decanted water into both of the other glasses.

She grins. “The whisky gods, huh?” she says.

He matches her grin. “Water back. I am glad that he is in touch with his heritage.”

She looks down for a moment, her eyes growing distant again. “There is no one more grounded in history,” she says. “In his heritages.” She looks up, blue eyes meeting blue. “All of them.”

Draq’s eyes narrow, but he says nothing, waiting for her to continue.

“So you are going to take an effective fighter from the movement so that you can check off a box on the ol’ prophecy list?” she asks, almost nonchalantly.

His eyes flash and he stands. “Now wait just a goddamned minute…,” he starts. He stops as he sees the sadness in her eyes. He nods and sits, calming his voice. “He is the best chance for stability on Corellia. If he doesn’t do it, then one of the Hag’s spawns may be able to wrest it away. Think about what those two might do to your precious movement,” he says quietly.

“Don’t know. Don’t rightly care.” She softens. “Probably not as much as you think. Bail was going to isolate Corellia anyway when Garm was pulling his shit with Mon Mothma.”

His eyes flash. “I didn’t think you knew anything about that, dear,” he says. “I thought you were in bacta then,” he adds quietly.

She shakes her head sadly. “Do you think that he would survive not being able to fight? All of his life, he has done something because somebody else has told him he ought to. He thought that he was free of that before Order 66.” Draq’ looks away and says nothing. “He needs to be able to make the choice, just like he did when the war was beginning. He told me that you told him that you were proud of him, no matter what. What has changed, Draq? Was that only a platitude to soften him up, to guilt him into following your lead later?”

“Are you any different, Ahsoka?,” he asks. “Do you think you are trying to get him to do something you want him to do? Ask yourself whether you are really just trying to point him in a different way.”

“Pretty sure that I did my damndest to push him away, Dragon,” she whispers. “He argued with me endlessly to be able to fight with me. If I thought it would be the best for him, I would drag his ass to that altar or whatever the hell it is and make him take that crown.” She pauses, taking a sip of her drink. “I met Dani’s mother. Sina told me the price she paid for ‘duty.’ No wait, it wasn’t just her price. It was Dani’s.”

His piercing eyes lance her with anger. “That is not fair. Alyysina would’ve died if she hadn’t taken the Chalice.”

“You don’t think Bryne….” She stops. “You don’t think Jame wouldn’t die if he couldn’t fight? It might not be a physical death, but a death nonetheless.”

Draq’ squeezes his eyes closed tightly. He again rises and walks over to the viewport. After a moment, she stands and walks up behind him. She circles her arms around his torso, resting her face against his upper back and shoulders. He is one of the few people who are tall enough that her head will rest there. He feels her voice vibrate against his spine. “I am not asking you to stop hoping for your world, Draq’,” she say. “I am just asking you to hope for the whole galaxy as well. We will need him.” He feels her words against his back. “Just give him the freedom to choose.”

She doesn’t say the words he can see on her face; the words that rest in the air unspoken, between them.

_I will need him._

Draq’ turns around in her arms. He pulls her into his and rests his chin between her montrals. They are quiet with their thoughts.

He doesn’t hear those words, but he knows that she hears them herself.

They hold each other, an old fighter and a young one. Each bent on protecting their loved ones and their worlds.

Until the light returns.

~=~=~=~=~=

Nola Vorserrie stops before the hatch on the _Sundered Heart._ She nods to the two guards at the portal. One, a Royal Guard of Alderaan, the other a Corellian Ranger. She grins to herself. The Ranger looks like a surly child who has been scrubbed by his parents, including a bit of spit to keep his hair down. _Or at least made to wear full uniform, rather than spacer’s clothes and a beret._ She nods at the peaked dress hat sitting square on his thick hair. He stares back cheekily at her, where the Alderaani is impassive, staring straight ahead.

Impulsively, she blows a kiss at the Ranger as she walks between them. He grins and drops his eye in a wink. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath, and knocks on the door. She enters at a word.

Breha, Queen of Alderaan, sits at a _dejarik_ table with her newest Handmaiden. She eyes the young woman impassively as she contemplates her move. She makes it. The response is swift and decisive from Flori. Breha closes her eyes. Flori grins.

“Alright, my girl,” the Queen says. “You win. Still think you are using your hoodoo unfairly, though.” Her own smile belies her words.

“Oh no, your Majesty,” Flori says innocently. “I would never do that. Besides,” she says with a hooded look, “our resonance only really works on those who want it to work.”

Breha’s eyes narrow. “Great. My new Handmaiden like to flirt.” Her look softens. She turns to Nola. “Perhaps the hoodoo might be directed at my Hand,” she says.

“Who says it hasn’t been?” the Hand says. “Plus, flirting with the Queen is almost a requirement for Handmaidens on my world,” she continues. “Gives both parties harmless practice.”

Breha rises, as does Flori. She takes Flori’s hands in her own and kisses her cheek. “I think that Nola needs to tell me something. Why don’t you go partake in a little more of the Festival, dear?” she says. Flori bows and turns to leave. As she passes Nola, she reaches up and touches her cheek for a moment. When they are alone, Nola turns. “She seems to be working out well.”

“Yes. I think that Bail and I are excellent judges of characters in those we choose.” Her eyes narrow. ‘Even when those ‘anonymous parties in the Legislative Bodies’ question our wisdom.” She touches Nola’s cheek. “Even when those we choose doubt themselves.”

Nola looks away. She thinks of an exercise that she had recently performed—an exercise in self-examination. One that led her here, along with the information that she had received. “Your Majesty, I have just received some information. Information that may indicate there is a threat to Alderaan,” she says.

Breha’s gaze locks on her. Nola suddenly feels like she is ten years old again and has been called before whatever authority figure in her life that she has trangressed against. Mainly because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

“Go on, dear,” Breha says, her eyes softening.

“The threat may come from within, or from without. Or some combination of the two.”

“Suitably vague. Is your informant trustworthy?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nola says. “Fulcrum and I trust him with our lives. Bail now trusts him with Fulcrum’s.”

Breha smiles. “The Corellian. Covenant.”

Nola can only nod.

Breha’s eyes grow serious. “This at a time when our other endeavors are moving along. The awful part of this is that we are getting serious questions in the Legislature and Council for some of our decisions. Plus, our Peacekeeper-General seems to delight in playing politics, rather than doing his job. But Bail can’t fire him.”

Nola is silent. Breha catches this. “You have a solution?” She touches Nola’s cheek. “Come on, dear. Out with it.”

“I might have. But it might add to those voices from Panteer and the others. It is something that I can do with my authority as Hand. If it goes sideways, I am expendable.” She looks at Breha’s sharp expression, her eyes unreadable. “It is what the Hand of the Queen does, Majesty. She takes the fall.”

Breha’s expression does not change, but after a moment, she nods. “I assume this might involve Covenant?”

“Yes. It may take some time. I have to figure if it is legal. The Senator can help me with that. Plus I need to convince Draq’, as well as Bryne.” She grins for a moment. “Don’t know which will be the harder. But if it can work, even in the interim, it might make the Senator and my Queen’s lives easier, with one less worry for their world.”

Breha smiles at her. “Okay. Start it moving.” Her eyes grow hard again. “Let me know what it is. I am not one who sits around, depending on ‘plausible deniability.’ Bail and I will discuss your proposal, after you have worked out the details.”

Nola bows. Breha briefly touches her head, allowing her hand to rest in the dark waves.

As she leaves, Nola sends a prayer to certain deities of luck from her childhood. She can only hope that this idea will give a certain Corellian and a certain Togruta more time. Time for him to settle the dynastic issues on his world with his upcoming name-day. More time for them to spend together.

 **One week later**  
**Hyperspace - The Hydian Way**

Ahsoka Tano gradually moves her mind from the mists of the Force. The peace and the lightness that she has felt in the last week, even after nearly dying, had rejuvenated her. She feels as if her connection to the living Force had strengthened during her time on the beautiful world and its bright, contented people, in spite of the darkness at the beginning. She shakes all thought of the death and darkness away. She smiles. She and Dani and her family had celebrated the end of the Festival only two days before. Her goodbyes had been bittersweet, but warm, coupled with the knowledge that, for now at least, Zeltros was safe.

The knowledge that there would be a safe-haven for her brothers, warmed her as well. Her smile grows as she thinks of the five ex-troopers as they said their goodbyes. They had taken her in their arms in a group again. She had drank in their calm, contented faces as they turned away. She had managed to fight the tears away as she thought of the cards they had drawn from the time they were ‘uncorked,’ as they called it.

Ahsoka had searched their feelings in her mind as they had left. She had found forgiveness. And love, just as they would find in her, if they could. Her face falls as she thinks of the one that was not there. Bly and his pain at Aayla’s death at his hands would be foremost in her mind for a long while. Ahsoka can only hope that he finds forgiveness from within. She knows that she has already forgiven him. She can only hope it is enough to help him survive the despair.

Her stomach flips as she hears the door to the small cargo hold open. She had isolated herself from Dani over the last twenty hours, sitting and meditating, practicing lightsaber forms and reconnecting with her mystical partner. She grins as her stomach takes another tumble, as she thinks of another she had been trying to reconnect with—a certain annoying three-colored light in her head. She looks up and softens the smile on her face. She notices that Dani is dressed in her CorSec uniform. The light burble of her resonance, and the fact that the young woman could make a drab security uniform look provocative and alluring, causes the flips to move lower. Ahsoka effortlessly rises from her meditation position.

Dani gifts her with a bright smile. “Hey, love,” she says. “Started to wonder if you were avoiding me.”

Ahsoka pulls her into a tight embrace. She fights the other sensations down. “You’re kind of hard to avoid, sweetie,” she replies. She shakes her head. “No. All that living life to the fullest. Had to do some re-connection with the Force.” Ahsoka looks at the overhead. “Even though I stayed in the light. Thanks to you and your people.”

“It’s what we do, Ahsoka,” Dani says, kissing the nearest lek. The ex-Jedi senses a smirk against the appendage. “You probably had to ease some sore places.”

Their laughter grows the warmth. Dani breaks the embrace. “My mother was impressed with you. She said that you were so powerful in your light.”

Ahsoka looks away. “I can see her, Daaineran, in you. Not just Draq’. She kisses Dani on the forehead. “Tell me. Will you become the next Chalice?”

Dani grins ruefully. “No. The half-human part will keep me from it. Do get some benefits, though.”

Ahsoka raises her eyebrow marking.

“Most hybrids have a very weak resonance. Especially human-hybrids. But apparently, since I am the daughter of the Chalice, with her genetic makeup, I am as powerful as any full Zeltron.” The smile turns into mischief again. “Probably stronger than most.”

Ahsoka laughs. “Probably not as humble, though.”

“That’s the Corellian side,” the empath replies, her own bright laughter evident in her voice. She grows serious. “So, were you able to find Bryne in the Force?”

Ahsoka looks away “No. Doesn’t mean anything.”

Dani nods, her eyes sympathetic. “I talked to Flori and Nola,” she says. “They said that he was fairly useful,” they both Smirk at that, “in unraveling the other part of this whole mess on Alderaan.” She touches Ahsoka’s cheek. “Something was bothering him when they left,” she finishes. “It was after having to fight alongside Kolan.”

Dani curses inwardly as she sees the pained expression on Ahsoka’s face. She makes a decision. “We’re being diverted from Bothuwai Proper,” she says. “Bail needs you to meet a potential ally on Alderaan.”

Ahsoka’s eyes grow fierce. “He knows I shouldn’t go to the Mother. It’s too dangerous for them.”

“He said that you would say that. He said to tell you that it was not a request. They have taken precautions. It is in and out.”

Ahsoka’s expression tells Dani that she is not convinced. “Come on,” she says, seizing Ahsoka’s bronze-hued hand. “Let’s get showered. You kind of stink after all that playing with your pointy things.” She smiles. “Got some different battledress for you, sweetie.”

The eyeroll would be felt on Alderaan. “Not Festival wear again.” the younger woman says with resignation. “Not on Alderaan.”

The officer smiles mysteriously. “Nope. As much as I loved seeing you in it, got something else in mind. Maybe a little familiar.”

~=~=~=~=~=

Covenant steps out of the ground elevator of the corvette in the beautiful city. He smiles as he thinks of the difference in his emotions from the world that he had just left. He breathes in the clean mountain air. Bryne turns to walk to the Palace. His eyebrows raise at the two men in civilian suits standing on the dock. Their demeanors and open jackets scream _cop_! He stops. The older one, a dour looking soul with a mustache and beard, as well as long hair tied back, steps up.

“Mr. Covenant?” he asks.

Covenant grins. “Close enough,” he replies.

“I am Peacekeeper-Sergeant Locke and this is Peacekeeper M’Faru of Peace and Planetary Security. Come with us, please,” the older one says.

Covenant’s eyes grow thunderous. His feet plant to the deck of the platform. Many former Jedi Masters and clone officers would recognize the maneuver. He shakes his head. “Look, boys, at any other time, I would love to play. But I am tired, I have had a shitty ten-day, and I want to go home. Was supposed to, as a matter of fact, but we got diverted to your lovely world again. So just get out of the way and let me see what your Viceroy wants.”

He makes to move past them. The older peacekeeper steps in his way.

“So this is where you tell me that we can do this the hard way or the easy way?” the Corellian says.

For the first time the dour peacekeeper gives something approximating a grin. “Nope. That is his job.” He jerks his thumb at his companion, M’Faru. For the first time, Bryne takes a closer look at him.

He is probably one of the largest humans the Corellian has ever seen. His shaven head sits atop a body the size of a small Wookiee, at least in girth. A small mustache and bit of hair on the chin are the only bits on his head. For an instant, Bryne is reminded of a larger version of Mace Windu. The glint of humor in his dark eyes dispels that comparison. Still, good humor is no match for…

He turns to make for his ship. He stops as the whine of repulsors and engine starts up. His expression is unreadable as he sees the ground elevator retract. He doesn’t bother watching the ship rise. He turns back to the two peacekeepers.

“Come on, little man,” the larger one says. “You still have an outstanding warrant to answer to.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Covenant explodes. “That was for a bullshit charge of littering.” His anger grows. “You tell Organa what he can do with his paper….”

Locke smirks. “Ain’t Bail that told us to get you and turn you over to somebody else. It was the scarier half.”

Covenant’s eyes widen, as he tries to remember which of his sins might have drawn the attention of Breha. He shakes the thought away. He looks at both of them. He closes his eyes for a moment. As he opens them, he smiles—a smile that just might be dangerous for someone.

~=~=~=~=~=

Ahsoka sighs as she feels the landspeeder pull to a halt. She looks at her three companions. Three innocent faces, one of them human, the other two from the world that she had just left, gaze back at her with soft smiles. “This is where you get out, love,” Dani says. “Remember, go on back to the private room. You’ll wait on your contact.”

“You aren’t going to back me up?” Ahsoka asks.

“Nope. The kids and I are going dancing. Or,” she says with a smirk matched by the other two, “hunting,” she says.

Ahsoka looks at Flori and Meglann. “Didn’t you get enough of that during the festival?” she asks Dani.

“Ain’t that kind of dancing,” Flori says.

“Besides,” the third member says, “I didn’t get to go to this ‘Festival’ thing.”

Ahsoka looks at her and smiles. “One of these days, sweetie, we might get you off of Alderaan.”

Meglann smiles. “Promises, promises, Brawler.”

Ahsoka looks at the three. They are dressed almost identically, with only subtle variances in color and cut. A great deal of bare skin is on display. “How come I don’t get invited?” she asks plaintively.

“Because,” says Flori, “your brooding hero look kinda turns all of our dance partners off.” The three women laugh together, the fond look in their eyes softening any sting.

“I can do fun,” she whispers.

Dani takes her face in her hands and gently kisses her. The others follow suit. They all pull her into a tight embrace. “I know, _tai’in-gere_ ,” Dani says. “But this is an important meet.” Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Flori start at the Zeltron word, then give a soft smile.

Ahsoka steps out of the speeder. As it pulls away, she can hear the bright voices and laughter. All at once, the memories cascade on her. Memories of the last time she had danced and enjoyed herself, before the last week. Memories of standing on the curb outside of 79s, the club on Coruscant set aside for the GAR and standing with Fives, and Echo, Kix and Jessie, waiting to go in. Of the noise and light as she danced under Rex’s watchful eye, making sure she was careful. Her eyes tear for a moment. She wipes them with the sleeve of her jacket. Ahsoka sighs and clears her head. She makes sure her cowl covers her face and montrals.

She is Fulcrum once again, rather than a young woman enjoying a bit of light and laughter.

~=~=~=~=~=

Covenant sits in a booth in the deserted back room of a restaurant, nursing a drink and a small cloth filled with ice. Occasionally, he takes a sip of one and places the other against his jaw. His two now-boon companions, Murta Locke and Boge M’Faru, nurse a similar pair of treatments. He smirks. Locke’s nose is a bit more crooked, with a matching bruise against Covenant’s forehead. M’Faru sports a slightly darker discoloration around one eye.

The two cops’ drinks are slightly less potent than Covenant’s as they are technically still on duty. All three men’s knuckles, including the ones attached to a pair of hands encased in stun cuffs at his front, are swollen and slightly bloody.

The prisoner had wisely decided not to touch his somewhat fairweather mystical companion in public at the invocation of the Queen of this world’s name.

Locke touches his ear. He nods to his partner. They both rise in unison. “This is where we get off,” Murta says in his almost incomprehensible accent. Covenant is about to reply, but his attention is drawn to the sound of the door opening.

Both officers grin as they see his expression. Their expressions freeze as well as their eyes fall on the tall figure in the door. They look at one another. Their matching expressions tell him that they realize that there are at least two too many inhabitants of the room.

As they exit, M’Faru tosses a tiny device to the hooded and cowled figure. She—and both are sure of that from the expanse of long leg exposed, as well as the figure in the leather jacket—catches the device deftly.

Covenant dares not breathe. His heart has seized, making it difficult, anyway.

The lack of respiration continues as she pulls the scarf from her face and head. She Smirks at his expression. “Well, are you just going to sit there with your mouth hanging open, or are you going to take a girl’s coat and scarf?” she says.

He manages to rise with only a modicum of clumsiness. Her eyes widen, then roll at the cuffed hands. He walks behind her and reaches around to grasp one side of her coat. In spite of his binding, he is able to move the garment from her shoulders. He hangs it on a nearby hook. His attention moves to unraveling her cowl-scarf. She takes pity on him and pulls it off herself. She smiles at the slight tremor in his hand as he touches the bare skin of her arm. Her own cardiovascular movement seems to have stopped as the warm skin of his bound hands glide over hers.

He turns her gently and gazes at her, drinking her in. He remembers a holo of her trial. The only time he had seen her in her newer, more functional battledress. A battledress that is approximated in the clothing she wears now. A short tunic with her arms and back bare, a high collar forming a triangular cutout over her breasts. A tunic in dark, almost royal blue, rather than the dark red of her battledress.

There are other differences. Her arms are completely bare, rather than encased in bracers. Bare except for a pair of matched serpentine gold bands on her upper arms. His eyes track downward. Rather than being mostly concealed in leggings and boots, her legs are only clad in a pair of high sandals.

He feels rather than sees her Smirk. “My eyes are up here, sport.” she says, a hint of bright laughter in her voice.

His eyes track upward. It is his turn to grin as her eyes mirror his movement upward. “You clean up pretty well, Bait,” she continues, “except for the jaw, bloody nose, and skinned knuckles.”

His expression grows somber. He realizes that she has used the unlocking device on his binders as they hit the floor. There are many words he could use to describe her. He chooses the snark of his heritage. “You ain’t so bad yourself, Runt,” he manages. At least it had sounded good in his head. Her hands move up to his cheeks and draw his lips to hers. He grins against her lips as he realizes, as if for the first time, that her eyes are open and watching him while they kiss, as they always are. They finally break apart, their eyes still locked on one another.

Ahsoka starts to speak, stops.

Their next words are in stereo.

“I lost the bet.”


	22. A Wager Redeemed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calm before the next storm.
> 
> A Remembrance.

Covenant watches Ahsoka devour the plateful of food in front of her. As she finishes her third plate, he grins as she licks her fingers. Her eyes lock with his as he gazes at her. She stops self-consciously and looks away. He shakes his head and takes her hand in his and kisses her knuckles gently. “Keep going, _cyar’ika_ ,” he says. “I adore watching you enjoy yourself.”

He pushes the remnants of his second plate away. 

“How did you get an Alderaani roll-house to find this kind of food? I would’ve been okay with some prawn rolls, as long as they kept the fire-spread coming.” Her eyes narrow in suspicion. “How did you know to fix this particular meal?”

He grins. “Mysteriously, they had this food on hand. The stew was quick once I knew my huntress was involved.” 

She reaches over and kisses his cheek.

“Never met a chef who didn’t like a challenge, Runt. Plus, I am charming and well-liked,” he says with a grin. 

Ahsoka rolls her eyes. “Shili freshwater mussels. Corellian deep-prawns. Boiled kajaka root and maize stalks.” She Smirks and places her hand on his thigh. He manages to keep from making any noise as her fingers move upward. “Not to mention your namesake, Chief Sausage,” she says. She pauses, as she ghosts over him. “You ain’t that charming.”

He reaches over and kisses her quickly, tasting the spices on her lips. “I cannot tell a lie. Bail’s chef’s sister owns this place. Apparently she really loves his family.”

Her eyes gleam. “You sure she wasn’t one of your bet-breakers?”

“Runt, she’s sixty if she is a day.”

“Good to know that you have standards.”

“Oh yeah, Ms. ‘Let’s-plow-through-most-of-the-Fayga-family-and-assorted-in-laws.’ Good to know that I have them.”

His laughter dies as hers continues. She touches his cheek. 

“I am sorry, Runt. You nearly died. You had every right—,“ he starts.

Her finger moves to his lips. “Shh, Bait. It is okay. I am here and I am alive.” She replaces her fingers with her lips on his. “It was a stupid idea to abstain just for a damned bet. Not with our lives.”

He nods. He feels his eyes grow distant. “Dani told me that Nola and Flori said there was something bothering you after you had to deal with Kolan.”

He takes a sip of water and pops a prawn in his mouth from the remains of her plate. “I saved his life.” He looks away. “In doing so, I may have put the movement in jeopardy. I used the Force to do it, as well as my saber.”

She nods gently, not saying anything. 

“He knows I was a Jedi.” Covenant looks into her eyes. “He knows you were, too.”

“I know, Bait,” she whispers. “He remembered Barriss and I from the Umbara air campaign. He remembered that I had held one of his pilots before he died; that both of us tried to make the men’s lives easier.”

“The man who you held was his lover, Ahsoka,” he says quietly. Her eyes widen. “He told me over dinner,” he says matter-of-factly. He looks away, unable to meet her eye. 

She takes his hand in hers, massaging the tortured knuckles. “What is bothering you, Bryne?” she says. 

“I went to Coruscant at the invitation of an ISB agent with the intention of murdering him.”

Her massaging motion doesn’t stop. 

“I would not let him hurt you, or make you have to put yourself out there and kill him,” he says.

“What happened?” she asks.

He grins sheepishly. “He basically told me to go out and do good after I threatened him. But that the time may come when he may have to try to kill us both. That was before we met for dinner.” He falls silent. “I did manage to get some information from him. The entire story on Zeltros. I gave it to Phygus for some of his underground holonet buddies, to do their worst. I also found some data on a possible threat to Alderaan. Not a lot of information, but I gave the data to Nola.”

He doesn’t say how he got the information. She allows him to not say. She reaches over and hugs him to her, then breaks away, but continues to hold him.

“Jame,” she says using his birth-name, “Never be ashamed of what you have to do. Both of us may have to do things that would go against the Code. A Code that is mostly obsolete. We both live by the tenets of the Code, but we may have to do things as spies that we are not proud of, to restore the light.” She looks down. “Never think that you have to protect me from having to do something like that.”

“Ahsoka, you are so in the Light,” he says, his voice choking. “I have already done things that—.” In his mind’s eye, he sees nearly a dozen of his former brothers and other troopers lying dead on an abandoned medical station. All surrounding a smaller figure in _beskar’gam._

She instantly knocks on his forehead with her knuckles. “Hey, Bait,” she says. “We aren’t Jedi anymore. I firmly believe we are both in the Light. We may have to do things to restore the Light that we may not be proud of, but we will not Fall.” She kisses him. A crooked grin that she has seen on his own face spreads across hers. “Besides, boinking an Imperial doesn’t exactly make you a Sith. I nearly boinked someone who was going to either slit my throat or toss me out of an airlock.” She closes her eyes. 

He smirks at her choice of words.

He brings his hands to her cheeks. “How the hell did you get so wise?” he asks. He touches the end of her nose with his lips. 

“Oh, I listened to a certain clan master, when he was saying something that didn’t involve trying to impress some of the other Padawans. So he could get into their pants.”

He looks down. “I was hoping that none of the clan noticed that.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t think we did, until later when we were trying to get into some pants of our own,” she replies. “Speaking of which. You want to go somewhere and see if we can get into each other’s pants? Now that I won the bet,” she adds.

“Oh, you are so full of it,” he says. “You did your little ‘doctor visit,’ well before I tried to advance science with Meglann.”

“Oh hell no, Bait,” she ripostes. “Planetary alignments being what they are, you surrendered first.” Their laughter rises as they stand to leave, arm in arm. He helps her with her jacket as she puts her scarf in place.

“Yeah, well, darlin’, you should lose on sheer numbers.”

“I was at a Fertility festival, bud. On Zeltros. What the hell did you expect?”

Later, as they lay in the bed of the owner’s suite of an old cruiser, their arms about each other, they are quiet as they gaze at each other. “As much as I would love to have you inside of me,” she says. “I have missed being held by you, Bryne Covenant,” she whispers.

He grins. “Me too, Ahsoka Tano,” he says. 

“Besides,” she says, an arch look in her eyes, “I think when the bars and dance clubs close and Dani and the kids get back, I think that we’ll be getting some spillover from the three of them, what with two Zeltrons and their resonances.”

“Yeah. Mysteriously, there are three pairs of women’s underwear on the deck of this cabin, that weren’t there when I left,” he says with his own look, locking with hers. “Maybe when they do you’ll be able to show me what Dani and her family taught you.”

“What are you talking about, Bait?” she says. “I taught them a few things.”

~=~=~=~=~=

Daaineran Faygan, once the heart-bond of Jedi Master, now the sister of the heart, the _ta’in-gere_ of two former Jedi, turns and holds her finger to her lips to the two younger women following her. She smiles as she sees that both of them are engrossed in kissing each other. She puts her hand on both of their shoulders and pushes them to another cabin. She rolls her eyes as she sees the two dresses fall to the deck in the passageway. She can feel both of their arousals through her and Flori’s resonances. She smiles and turns to the door of the owner’s suite. She listens for a moment, then palms her way in. 

Her eyes soften as they light on the young man and young woman lying in the bed. Both still clothed, except for their footwear. Ahsoka’s head lies pillowed on Covenant’s shoulder. Their breathing is in sync. Their faces are as peaceful as Dani has ever seen. Her eyes tear as she thinks of their shared pain. The losses the three of them have endured, Both singularly and together.

She thinks of Shaak Ti and her influence on all of them. She remembers her thoughts during the Festival. Of mourning in the way of her world and its loving people. A mourning that encompasses all parts of the Zeltron soul. She smiles. The upper two arms, both equal - the _gere_ , or heart; and the _tere_ , or mind. The smile transforms into a smirk characteristic of the two huntresses and one of the adopted cultures of the hunter. Contrary to popular belief, the third arm of the soul is not the most important. There is a reason that the _dere_ , the body, is always depicted at the base of an upside-down triangle in Zeltron mythology. 

She shakes her head. These two deserved to mourn with her when the time was right. One for his master, the other for her hunt-mother. She for her heart’s love.

Dani runs her fingers gently through Bryne’s hair, and over Ahsoka’s lekku. They both stir, but do not wake. She looks up as other sensations course through her resonance. She makes a decision as the sensations move through her body to her core. She kisses them both on their foreheads and turns to leave.

At the door of the cabin, she turns and looks at them both. Her eyes soften with emotion as her tears spill freely. She exits the cabin to join the light with the two young women.

She lets the sister and brother of her heart rest from the fight in each other’s arms.

~=~=~=~=~=

Breha Organa looks at the fuzzy image of a Dragon of a brother world. They both smile as they contemplate the actions they are about to take. “So, we’re agreed Draq’?” she asks. 

“Yes, my dear Queen. We’ll settle this stupid-ass bet for them both.” Breha looks at her Hand. 

Nola turns to her datapad and pushes a few buttons. All three of them are able to see the transactions taking place on the ‘pad.

Two reservations, at the acknowledged finest, most exclusive restaurant in the Republic and now the Empire. Draq’ rolls his eyes. The most expensive, as well, he thinks ruefully. His expression grows softer. _But well worth it for these two._

Two open-ended reservations at Delmon’s on Coruscant. That any of the three watching on the datapad—plus an absent Viceroy—could finalize. Open-ended reservations that would be finalized when one event, and one event only would occur. 

They would be finalized exactly six months after the Emperor falls. After the darkness was lifted.  
A promise for the two lovers; the two hunt-siblings. A private celebration, among many in the galaxy at large. A promise of hope. Hope that their blood, sweat, and tears would pay off.

Hope that both of them would be there to collect, and enjoy the meal. 

All three of the guarantors look at one another, either in person or through the holocomm.

Hope for them all, as well.

**Epilogue: Sanctuary—Remembrance**  
**Five years and one month after Empire Day**

Bryne Covenant collapses next to a huntress and a caretaker. All three fight for their breath as the light recedes. Covenant looks into Ahsoka's eyes and brings his uninjured hand to her wing marking. They can both feel the Zeltron's resonance increasing even as the light recedes.The emotions from all of them, vulnerable from touching the light, increase as they remember why they lie next to one another.

They lie there gently touching each other. Touching to mourn one who had shaped all of them. Two as students. One of those as the closest thing to a son that the woman had. The last one as the heart of her existence. All of them loved. All of them had loved her in one shape or fashion. The two students' love had been tested by the perceived abandonment of the youngest.

Love had forgiven. 

The night had been filled with emotion as they had mourned as the heart-bond's people would mourn. Celebrating the life; the emotions; and the physical sensations. The physical touches that would unlock hidden memories. Hidden emotions.The night had been filled with each other.

The three beings in the universe who had shared the pain and the joy of the one that they remember. Her triumphs. Her perceived failures. All of them had felt the remnant of pain through Dani's emotional link with Ti and Bryne's training bond. The pain of the losses of her first two Padawans. 

But, they had all three felt the triumph of the man now known as Bryne Covenant being raised to knighthood. A knighthood physically granted by the young huntress lying connected to him.

"I am so glad that we could have this time, my loves," the young Zeltron says. "You have made me feel so alive, my hearts." 

Bryne speaks up. "I saw something else when Ahsoka and I were...."

"You mean when you were fucking each other, dear?" Dani says. 

"Yeah," he replies, rolling his eyes at the Zeltron disdain for soft euphemisms. "I saw Ti at other times. The one that stood out was on Corellia when she was wounded and you were tending her. When she showed her relief that I was alive after my fight with Ventress."

"Yeah, sweetie," Dani says. "It is my fondest memory. It is the first time that I felt like I was in love with her. I felt nothing, but pure, raw love from her for you. The love of a mother. Not just the pride of a Jedi master."

Ahsoka looks at them both intently. Her blue eyes glisten. "I saw that too. It was so beautiful. I know that Anakin loved me, but it was more as a big brother," she whispers. "We were closer in age."

Dani smiles. "I saw your fondest memory of Ti, as well, Ahsoka. When you saw the look of pride on her face at your Hunt. At you for your success, and at Tal for standing up for you."

Ahsoka rests her forehead on Dani's. "I vaguely remembered it, Dani. I didn't remember the raw pride that you showed me."

Dani kisses her quickly. "That is the thing about mourning in Zeltron fashion. The act of the body triggers raw emotions and memories—mostly the fond ones. It delves deeper." She smiles, "They overwhelm the negative ones."

Both Ahsoka and Bryne fall silent as they look at each other, as they are lost in their memories.  
Memories of a trial and his reaction to it. 

Bryne feels the pain rolling off of them both, through Dani’s gift. Dani moves to where she is lying on both of them. Her hands move to both of their cheeks. She kisses them gently.

"Hey, you two. This is supposed to be a celebration. Let's live life to the fullest some more."

The young woman, the daughter of a Dragon, moves her lips to the nearest pair. A pair of full lips attached to a beautiful young woman with her own dual heritages. Bryne Covenant, the man whose former name speaks to being between worlds, watches as the two who have shared the most of the joy and pain in his life, begin to share each other's light.

Later, the three of them lie content, again. Sated, both in body and spirit. The three of them, who have shared so much shared pain, share their joy—joy in each other, as well as the joy of fond memories of those who have left them.

Ahsoka pushes herself up. She watches as Dani and Bryne slowly come apart, their touches lingering. She kisses both of them; sharing their tastes.

As they come apart, Covenant lies on his back. Ahsoka and Dani nestle themselves close on either side; their alternating temperatures easing him. He touches Ahsoka's cheek, bringing her lips to his again.

For the instant that his left hand rests on her wing marking, he looks at the hand. At the damaged ring finger with its beskar ring with the thin inlays of orange and black. She smiles as she thinks of the laughing warrior who had given it to him. She remembers the young naval captain who had had helped him stay in the light during the Clone War. A powerful warrior who had shared her light with both he and Dani.

Bryne kisses them both on their foreheads. First Dani, then finally Ahsoka claim his lips with their own. Ahsoka's lips linger as she whispers words that they never have to say. Dani's eyes fill with tears again as he whispers the words to the huntress. They can both feel the warmth and emotions that those words for each other build in the Zeltron, through the emotional link. Dani smiles at both of them.

The three young warriors sleep. They rest, as those who have gone before now rest. Four of those in particular seem content. The serene, powerful, loving huntress, for whom they had gathered in this bed. A laughing young warrior with the avatar of a little boy in her arms. A powerful naval captain who had sacrificed her life for what she felt would be a better world for her younger sister. Others, with the exception of a distant, tall Kel Dor, and a young Queen-Senator, don't seem to be present in the youngest of the warriors' senses.

No matter. They will appear someday. They are remembered.


End file.
